A Family Forged in Fire
by LumiOlivier
Summary: Lena was living in an orphanage. Constant rejection day in and day out. They were looking for a baby, not her. Little did she know that a case would bring a pair of brothers that would turn her life upside down. (Sequel: When the Fire Goes Out)
1. Stabbed for a Sandwich

**A/N: If you know me, you know I started a SuperWhoLock series a very, very long time ago (about four, five years ago. It was the following fall/winter after I graduated high school and that was 2012) and it was a shameless self-insert much like most of my other fic. I just change the names up, kids (except for the Kuroshitsuji fic). That's my secret. That's how you write self-insert without anyone getting their panties in a bunch over it being a self-insert. Writing's how I cope, ok? So, shut your holes. Now, I've just condensed the original down to some prequel-ish goodness. How the MC met the boys in the first place. For now, we're just going to focus on the Super part. Whether or not it'll mutate into a rewrite of my original SuperWhoLock series will be a different story, but now, I'm going to do a little something, something, shut the frak up and let you read, ok? I'll talk some more at the end. Now, read, my children. Read.**

I almost got stabbed over a turkey sandwich. I know. Sounds ridiculous. I know. But bear with me. I promise this will make more sense. Pinky promise! Will you stay and listen to my tale? Awesome! I'm assuming you said yes. You could've said, "Go eat a dick, Lena!" for all I know, but I'm going to go on and tell you all about the tale of an orphaned little girl and her turkey sandwich.

I had just come back to my orphanage ran by these wickedly strict nuns after school one day with a fresh dye job. My hair turned from a bleached white blonde into a really rich mermaid blue. More or less out of defiance, really. I knew it would make the nuns freak, but I didn't care about that. However, they would've written it off as a little girl acting out because she never knew her mommy and daddy.

No. It was an artistic free spirit not wanting a conventional hair color anymore. When I walked in, no one said a word about it. So, they've finally given up on me? Fantastic. Everyone else already had. It was about time the nuns got on the same page. It's going to be alright, Lena. Angels are watching over you. God will save you one day. Uh-huh. Whatever you say, sister.

"Lena," one of the nuns called for me.

"What?" I groaned, knowing my inevitable ass chewing was about to ensue.

"You have a visitor," she tried to avoid eye contact. I swear to God. It's like I had the damn plague around here. Odd. I never had visitors. I had an old friend of my mom's come up from Sioux Falls from time to time. He was like an uncle to me. If he wasn't a proven alcoholic, I'm sure he would've adopted me a long time ago, but unfortunately…But we always met at the bar down the street. He wasn't allowed to see me here anymore. So, who the hell would come to visit me?

"Hi, Lena," a man I had never seen before sat with me. Great. A new social worker. Did Janice quit on me? That's three in one month. Has to be a record.

"Hello," I rolled my eyes, completely uninterested in whatever sales pitch he had ready for me on how he's going to help me better myself.

"I'm Chuck," he introduced himself.

"Pleasure," I scrolled through my phone.

"Look," Chuck pushed my phone down, "I have something to tell you and you need to listen."

"Alright," I put my phone on my nightstand, "I'll bite. Are you going to replace my guidance counselor, my crisis counselor, my grief counselor, or my social worker?"

"None of the above," he gave me a look, "Are you ok?"

"That's a rabbit hole I'd rather not go down, Chuck," I shot him down, "I have it covered up with a boulder and eight layers of cement. If you're here to talk about my feelings, you can leave now and not waste your time."

"No," he explained, "I'm here to make a suggestion. Tonight, you should go down to the bar."

"You do know I'm fourteen, right?" I pointed out, "What kind of social worker are you?"

"Just trust me," Chuck promised, "Go to the bar tonight. I know you have a fake ID."

"Seriously, dude," I wondered, "What kind of social worker are you?"

"Just a friendly face passing through," he smiled, "Go to the bar. Have a good time tonight. Hang out with the house band. You guys are all good friends. There's no harm in that, is there?"

"I like the way you think, Chuck," I agreed, "Alright. I'll go to the bar, but I swear if something happens to me, I'm blaming you."

"I promise you'll be fine," Chuck swore, "Just go out tonight and have some fun. You look like you could use it."

"Fine," I nodded, "Ok. I'll go out and get trashed tonight."

"Whatever makes you happy," he got up, "I wish you all the best, Lena."

"Thank you, Chuck," I sent him out and got myself ready to find a man for the night. Not like we'd do anything, but it'd be nice to have a warm body next to me.

With one last glance in the mirror, I grabbed my bag and climbed out the window. There was a bar down the street I liked to go to a couple times a week, where I had become good friends with the house band. They were almost like a family I never had. But I say almost. It always felt that, no matter how close I was with them, I was always kept at arm's length.

But I liked this bar. Scummy little place, but the booze was good. The bartender was a sweetheart. The regulars were good people. For some weird reason, this little hole in the wall bar was the closest thing I've ever had to feeling like a home. The nuns tried, but all I needed was good tunes, good booze, good people.

I hung out onstage with the guys and waited for anyone to come along and throw some money in our jar. Anyone could request a song as long as they dropped a dollar first. Then, a couple of guys walked in. A pair of suits. Just what I needed. Someone to bust me for my fake ID. They were pretty hot for feds, though. And they took a seat at the table right in front of the stage.

"Hi," I turned my jailbait charm on, "Put a dollar in the jar. We'll play you anything you want."

"Are you old enough to be in here?" the short one of the two asked, looking me over.

"Why?" I got nervous, "You a cop?"

"No," he chuckled a bit, "I like her, Sammy."

"Dean," his partner stopped him.

"Dollar for anything I want, huh?" he threw a single in the jar, "You know anything good, sweetheart?"

"I know plenty of good," I said, "But I'm not your sweetheart. What can I do for you?"

"You know any AC/DC?" he requested, thinking I wouldn't know squat. He had a sort of smug arrogance about him. But it was a false cockiness. I knew what that was like.

"Yeah," I nodded, doing a little retaliation, "Bon Scott or Brian Johnson?"

"Surprise me," I had him floored. And a sweet sense of delight fluttered in the pit of my soul, "I really like her, Sammy…"

"Alright," I jumped onstage and gave the boys a nod. When the opening riff of "You Shook Me All Night Long" kicked up, my inner stripper came out. Always did without fail. The mic stand became my pole and when that solo wailed on, I ended up in pretty boy's lap, shaking my ass. Sure, this was technically illegal, but according to my ID, I was twenty-three. No one had to know. When I finished, his jaw was on the floor. And I think his buddy was a little stunned that something like that came out of little old me, "Good enough for you, sweetie?"

"Let me buy you a drink," he ordered, "I'm dean. This is my brother Sam."

"Lena," I introduced myself, putting a cigarette between my teeth. I felt around in my pockets and couldn't find my Zippo. Dammit, "Either one of you boys got a lighter? I think I dropped mine in the alley on the way out."

"Hold on," Sam stopped me while Dean lit me up, "In all seriousness, how old are you?"

"And you're not cops?" Couldn't be too careful.

"No," Dean promised, "We're not cops. So…Eighteen?"

"Try again," I sipped on my whiskey.

"Higher or lower?"

"Not saying."

"Sixteen?" he guessed.

"Nope," I shook my head, "Give up?"

"Tell me you're at least legal," Dean crossed his fingers.

"I'm fourteen," I came clean.

Dean choked on his beer while Sam helped him recover, "You're only fourteen?"

"I know I don't look it," I smirked a bit, "That's from the smoking, the drinking, and the hard living. But yeah. I'm only fourteen."

"What do you mean, hard living?" Dean asked, with a hint of condescension in his voice, "You mean which boys aren't asking you to prom and which girls are total bitches?"

"More like constant rejection on a daily basis," I explained, "Couples coming in every single day looking to adopt, but they want a baby. They don't want a pain in the ass like me. The nuns tell me it'll happen one day, but I have visions of staying there for another four years. So, I drink, I smoke, I get passed over. That kind of hard living."

"Oh…" he tucked his tail between his legs, "Look, I'm…"

"Please don't give me the empty apologies," I begged, "I've been getting them for as long as I can remember. At this point, they're just annoying. And before you can give me the pity face, I'm going to stop you there."

"Alright," Dean let it go, "Fair enough."

"So, Lena," Sam asked, "What would you be doing in a bar?"

"I'm good friends with the band," I finished my whiskey, keeping Chuck to myself, "We jam together from time to time."

"You guys were great," Dean applauded, "I never thought a big voice like that would come out of someone like you."

"What can I say?" I shrugged, "I'm an enigma."

"And it's a pleasure to meet that enigma," he gave me a little smile.

"Well, gentlemen," I left my glass on the bar, "It's been a blast playing with you, but the nuns are going to beat my ass for sneaking out."

"Hold on," the tumblers finally fell into place in Sam's head, "You snuck out of an orphanage ran by nuns to place AC/DC in a bar you're not even old enough to be in?"

"Yep," I blew kisses at the cute bartender, "Enigma and a little bit of a rebel."

"I really, really like her, Sammy," Dean awed.

"I need to get going," I put my cigarette out, "Nice meeting you, Sam and Dean. I hope we can do this again sometime."

"Us, too, Lena," Sam's smile made my heart melt.

"Hey," I stuck my head back in the door, "The Impala out here. She yours?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded, "Why?"

"She's beautiful," I admired, "Sixty-seven?"

"My god, Sam," he was about to lose it, "Can we keep here?"

"Easy, Woody Allen," I teased, grabbing the tip jar, "Later, boys."

I liked Sam and Dean. They seemed like the kind of guys I wanted to keep close. And not just in the wink, wink way. Like…The lost and can't be found kind of way. Something about them felt familiar. Maybe they know my struggles.

I began my long walk back to the orphanage with images of those beautiful boys in my head. Really and truly, I hope I do run into them again. Sam and Dean didn't strike me as locals. But they did strike me as trustable. I'd keep them around if I could. And by the sounds of things, Dean wanted to keep me.

As I turned the corner, the orphanage was completely engulfed in flames. Well. Looks like I'm not going back there. Not like I had anything important in there. As far as anyone knew, I was now a ghost. My records just went up. Oh well. So much for that. I had about fifty bucks from the tip jar from tonight and I had to prioritize. I could be a cliché and sleep under the overpass tonight. I didn't have enough for hot food and a hotel room. I grabbed a turkey sandwich from the gas station and made myself a spot for the night.

"Hey," one of the other bums came up to me, "You alright?"

"Fine," I brushed him off.

"What do you got there?" he asked, staring into my hands.

"Um…" I wasn't sure what he was getting at, "A sandwich."

"Give it to me."

"Excuse me?" I gave him a look, "No. This is mine."

"I haven't eaten in three days," he snarled, busting a beer bottle, "You're going to give it to me."

"I'm sorry, man," I stepped back from him, "This is mine. It's all I got."

Looney Tunes pinned me against the wall and held the shattered glass up to my throat, "That sandwich is gold around here, sweetheart. Now, give it to me."

"Hey!" a familiar voice barked, the headlights shining in my eyes, "Back off the girl!"

"This has nothing to do with you," he growled, cutting my cheek, "Give it to me!"

Next thing I knew, I heard punches being thrown and I was getting dizzy. I fell to the ground and blinked the spots out of my eyes while a big pair of arms wrapped around me, "Hey…Lena? Stay with me, ok?"

"Ok," I rubbed my eyes, "Sam?"

"There you are," I started to make out his face, "Dean! Let's go!"

"Where are we going?" I asked, rolling into Sam's chest.

"We're going back to our hotel," he cradled me, "Are you ok?"

"You know," I babbled in my delirium, "If you wanted to bring me back to your hotel, you could've at least bought a girl dinner and drinks first. I'm classier than that."

"It's going to be alright," Sam put me in the back seat of their Impala, "Dean!"

"Got it," Dean threw the guy down and got in the driver's side, "How you doing, Lena? You feel ok?"

"My cheek is bleeding and I'm starving," I reported, "But I'll be alright."

"Here," he reached into the glovebox and pulled out a wad of fast food napkins, "Get that on it. We'll take care of it when we get back."

My vision completely narrowed and was soon swallowed by blackness. The backseat of this Impala was oddly comfortable. Like it had been just perfectly worn in. When I woke up, I was in a bed instead. And in a crappy motel room. With a warm body against my back. Weird. This was not how I imagined my day going.

"Hey," Sam smiled at me from the other bed, "How you feeling?"

"Where the hell am I?" I wondered, still not completely there.

"Our hotel room," Dean's embrace tightened a little, "Why didn't you tell us, Lena?"

"Tell you what?"

"There was no orphanage, was there?" he asked.

"Yeah, there was," I assured, "But it was on fire by the time I got there."

"We know," Sam nodded, "We saw, too. We tried saving everyone, but unfortunately…"

"I didn't have any emotional ties," I settled him, curling into Dean's shoulder, "Wait, what would you guys be doing there?"

"Long story short," Dean explained, "One of the nuns made a deal with a demon. Demon came to collect. We couldn't let that happen."

"So, what?" I tried to logic it out in my head, "You guys are some sort of demon hunters?"

"General hunters," he corrected me, "Not just demons. Pretty much any monster you can think of."

"Alright," I shook him off my back, "I appreciate the hospitality, guys, but I'm out. And I'm usually not the type to suggest this to people, but a mental health professional would probably be a good idea."

"It's true, Lena," Sam stopped me, "This isn't the first fire in your life, is it?"

I froze dead in my tracks, "How'd you know?"

"It's how you lost your parents," he went on, "We were at your orphanage earlier today. And out of curiosity, we asked about any of the kids that might have been through a housefire. Your name came up."

"So," I sat back down, "Did you know who I was when we met at the bar?"

"No," Dean took over, "Although, in hindsight, we probably should've pieced that one together."

"And you're sure it was a demon that burned the orphanage?" I started coming around. Despite the fact it still sounded absolutely ridiculous.

"Ever smell sulfur around there?" he wondered.

"Yeah," I gave him a look, "How would you know that?"

"Demons leave a trail of sulfur behind," Sam told, "We're thinking your parents may have been in on a deal, too."

"Look, boys," I sighed out, "This is too much for me to handle right now. I'm currently homeless and I got nowhere to go."

"That's the other thing we wanted to talk to you about," Dean exchanged looks with his brother, "Since you don't have anywhere to go, me and Sam…We want to informally adopt you."

My heart sunk all the way to my toes. Those few words I waited all my life to hear, "You…You what?"

"From a couple of orphans to you," Sam agreed, "We want to adopt you. If that's alright with you."

"But," Dean stopped, "Before you make your decision, you should know a few things. We aren't in the same place for long. We're pains in the ass to deal with when we're running on no sleep, which is more often than what we'd like. What we do isn't exactly safe. It's definitely not fun. It gets very dangerous very quickly."

"Yes," I shut him up, "I don't have anything else going on. Why not? And if you guys are kicking demon ass, count me in. Maybe I'll find the one that made my parents' deal and get a few swings in."

"It's like I made you in a computer," Dean gasped.

"What?" Sam questioned his brother's mental state.

"Weird Science, Sam," Dean and I filled him in.

"My god," Dean hugged me tight, "Welcome to the family, Lena."

 **A/N: Wow. I did not intend for this to be a.) as long as it is and b.) up as late as it is. I've had a busy day. Now, we have a warm, fuzzy feeling and Lena's been adopted. What sort of cheeky shenanigans are her and the boys going to get into? We'll find out next week, won't we? That's right. Every Thursday, this is going to get an update unless otherwise specified. So, until then, see you next chapter. xx**


	2. Touched by an Angel

Ugh…my head. My head was killing me. And as much as I loved them, the Metallica coming from the clock radio wasn't helping. I had the weirdest dream that the orphanage burned down because of demons and a homeless guy was going to shank me with a busted beer bottle for my sandwich. All I wanted to do was go back to sleep.

"Morning, sunshine," Dean chimed.

So much for that idea, "Morning."

"Not a morning person?" he assumed.

"What gave me away?" I rolled over, pulling the blankets over me, "Hey, weird question. Was I dreaming that part, too, or am I really sticking with you and Sam?"

"Not a dream, Lena," Dean promised, "We did informally adopt you last night. You're with us."

"Dammit," I groaned.

"Once," he pouted, "Just once, would a thank you kill anyone?"

"No," I caught a glimpse of a clock, "I'm late for school. I mean, I want to go like a hole in the head, but…"

"Don't worry about it," Dean brushed me off, "We took care of it."

"So," I cuddled into my pillows, "Does this mean I can go back to sleep?"

"Nope," Sam came back with three cups of coffee in his hand, "Rise and shine, kiddo."

"I don't want to," I whined. I think after the hell of a night I had gone through, I deserved a little extra sleep.

"Sorry, Lena," he gave me a cup.

"Now, we got some loose ends to tie up with the orphanage fire," Dean got up from the edge of my bed, "Stay here."

"And while you guys are gone," I got comfortable again, "I can go back to sleep?"

"We shouldn't be too long," Sam promised.

"And once we get back," Dean told, "We're out of here."

"Ok," I started drifting off again.

"Nope," he yanked my blanket away, "Come on, Lena. Get up. You can always sleep in the car."

"Fine!" I snapped, rolling out of bed, "I'm up!"

"Atta girl!" Dean gave me a nudge, "I knew you could do it!"

"Damn idjits," I grumbled under my breath.

"What'd you say?" Both Sam and Dean shot me a weird look.

"Nothing!" I got up and pushed through them, shutting the bathroom door behind me.

"She was your idea, Sam," Dean blamed, "Let's take the girl in!"

"Says the guy that asked if we could keep her a million times over," Sam countered.

"I can still hear you!" I called out. You could've said no, Lena. You could've walked away from them and never saw them again. Although, I should probably find Chuck and drop him a thank you note and a coffee mug that says best social worker ever. But first, shower. Shower sounds good. I ached in places I was too young to have aches in. And a shower would help immensely. Painkillers would probably be a good idea, too. I still had a bitch of a headache I couldn't shake.

"Hey, Lena," Dean knocked on the door.

"I'm naked, Dean," I stopped him, "What do you want?"

"There's going to be a guy in a trenchcoat stopping by," he explained.

"And I shouldn't take his candy," I figured, "Got it. I know the stranger danger talk. You don't need to give it to me a second time."

"No," I caught a half giggle coming out of his throat, "His name is Castiel. He's going to check you out, make sure you're ok."

"So, he's a doctor?" I guessed.

"More or less," I pushed through the bathroom door and jumped back on the bed, "We'll be back soon. Don't trash the room and don't go anywhere."

"And answer the door for the guy with the candy and the panel van," I nodded, "Got it."

"Yeah," Dean threw his arms around me, "Please. For the sake of our sanity, don't go anywhere."

"Where am I going to go?" I reveled in his embrace. It had been far too long…And oddly enough, it felt like my uncle. Right down to the smell of gunpowder and whiskey.

"See you soon," Sam hugged me tight, too. What the hell? It's like they…actually liked me.

As soon as the boys were out the door, I couldn't resist. I had to do a little bit of snooping. I needed to make sure these guys weren't complete serial killers. They had a bag of nothing but shotguns, so that was comforting. Some knives of assorted sizes made of assorted materials. Maybe they were a little serial killer-y. They did save my life, but why? They must have seen something in me. I don't know what, but it was enough to keep me safe.

Ooh! Computer! It had been a while since I had done a little hacking. Why not? One can tell quite a bit about someone by looking at their internet history and their bookmarks. Let's see. Wiccan spells, vampire lore, newspapers, newspapers, Greek myth. Busty…Asian…Beauties…? That's nice. Hey! There was something familiar! A good, old-fashioned hentai site. I remember the first time I watched a little hentai. The nuns confiscated my laptop for a while…They weren't exactly proud of me for that. I had bruises on my hands for a week and a half after that.

Well. Their internet history wasn't quite serial killer-y, but it definitely gave their monster hunter story a little more legitimacy. Let's see what else I can find. I found another bag in the closet filled with their liquor cabinet. I know what I'm doing later. But in that same bag was a leather-bound journal. Huh. A lot of the things in this journal sounded a lot like some of the stories my uncle would tell me when I was younger. A picture fell out of the bottom of a woman and two boys. One looked like he was about four and cute as a button. The other was just a baby. Maybe a couple months old. I turned the picture over, looking for a date.

 _Mommy, Dean, and Sammy_

 _July 1983._

Wow. This was baby Sam and Dean? They were so cute and full of life. But now…yikes. No. Puberty definitely hit those boys like a Mack truck. And that was their mom. At least they had that much. I couldn't even say what my parents looked like. All the pictures burned in the fire and I was lucky to get out.

"You know," a rough, gravelly voice broke the silence, "You probably shouldn't be doing that."

I dropped everything and grabbed one of the knives out of the bag, "Who are you? How did you get in here?"

"Please," the guy settled me while I looked him over. Dude in a trenchcoat. Take his candy, "Put the knife down. My name is Castiel. I'm here to help you."

"Ok," I dropped the knife, still a bit skeptical, "There's one of my questions answered. How did you get in here? That door was locked."

"I'm an angel of the lord," he explained, slowly walking toward me.

"Angel," I wasn't going to question it. A demon burned my orphanage, so who's to say that angels don't exist? I'll adjust, "Got it. So, you're the guy Dean was talking about?"

"Dean talks about me?" If I didn't know any better, I'd think I could say I made an angel blush.

"All good, too," I assured, "Except he left out the part where you were an angel."

"So, you do believe me?" Castiel sat on the bed.

"You poofed in our room," I pointed out, joining him, "Might as well. I'm Lena."

"Do you mind…?" he asked.

"No," I let him go, "Go ahead. Whatever you have to do."

"This may be a little uncomfortable," Castiel slid a silver blade out of his sleeve and put a cut in my arm.

"Dude!" I squeaked, "Ouch! What the hell?"

"You're not hosting a demon," he told, healing my arm, "You're not any sort of monster. You're fine."

"Aside from cutting me," I turned the charm on, "You're not so bad either, sweetie. The nuns always said angels were watching over me. Were you one of them?"

"I have others to watch over," Castiel continued to take care of my cheek from last night and my headache went away. Screw painkillers. I had one on legs.

"You mean Sam and Dean?" I could see it in those eyes of his. He'd do anything to protect them.

"Yes."

"I like you, Castiel," I laid my head on his shoulder, "You're simple. You have one mission. You do it."

"It's a lot more complicated than you make it sound," he admitted.

"It shouldn't have to be," I shrugged, "Only as complicated as you make it. Now that I'm done sounding like a fortune cookie, do you have any idea how long the boys are going to be?"

"No," Castiel shook his head, "I might be a celestial being, but I'm not clairvoyant. I'm sorry."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Did they tell you to babysit me?" I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself in line.

"No."

"Are you sure?" I could be very persuasive when I wanted to be.

He looked down at his feet, "No."

"Thought so," I couldn't believe them. I could, but I couldn't. I know they want me to stay safe, but I could handle myself. I didn't need an angel babysitting me. It's not like anything was going to happen. Then again, there was a demon in town. I guess I could understand where they were coming from. And who better to keep me safe than a freakin' angel? I threw myself back on the bed, "So, I'm left with crappy hotel cable and an angel at my disposal. What to do, what to do."

"You weren't exactly easy to find," Castiel said, "What do you know about the hunter's life?"

"Next to nothing," I flipped through the channels, "I just found out yesterday that demons were a legit thing."

"Your necklace," he pointed out, "Where did you get that?"

"My uncle gave it to me," I played with the pendant around my neck, "He said it was special and that as long as I had it, I'd be ok. I'd be safe. I've had it since I was a baby. The only other thing to survive the fire other than me."

"It's a heavy-duty protection crystal," Castiel looked it over, "It'll protect you from anything. You're warded. Angels, demons, monsters of any kind. Your uncle knew what he was doing."

"What a sweetheart," I felt my stomach grumble at me. I wonder if Sam and Dean had a stocked mini fridge. Sure enough, emptier than last year's bird nest, "Hey, Cas, think you could do me a solid?"

"Sure."

"I'm starving and Sam and Dean left me with squat," I bat my eyelashes, "You think you could score a girl a big ass cheeseburger? Maybe a Jack and Coke?"

"I can get you a cheeseburger," he agreed, "But you're too young for whiskey."

"Thanks, Dad," I rolled my eyes, "Buzzkill."

"I'll be right back." I think I might have hurt his feelings.

At least I knew where the minibar was. If Castiel doesn't come through on the Jack, I had my-

"Lena," Cas popped back in, "Here. I got your burger and your drink."

"Jesus," I chuckled, "You weren't kidding. When you say you'll be right back, you'll be _right_ back. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

I took a good, heavy drink from my straw and damn near choked on it, "You make 'em strong, don't you? I know bartenders that don't even make a Jack and Coke like this. What's your ratio?"

"Half and half," he told, "I wasn't sure how to make it, so I took the safe route."

"That wasn't the safe route," I beamed, "That route ends in cirrhosis. And I could've used the drink. Thank you, Cas."

I do believe I made a friend today. One that wants to get me completely hammered, but I really and truly did have an angel on my shoulder. His name was Castiel and he wore a trenchcoat that may not have had candy in it, but it got me fed and drunk, so I couldn't complain. And him healing my ailments was pretty cool of him, too.

"Honey," Dean pushed through the door, "I'm home."

"I don't understand," Cas gave him a look, "Why are you calling me a substance made by bees?"

"Rhetorical, Cas," Dean shook his head in disappointment, following it up with a little smile. And I melted a bit inside, "And I wasn't calling you honey."

"So," I threw my burger wrapper in the trash can, "Where to next?"

"Just get in the car," Sam insisted, "We have one last thing to take care of before we leave."

"Ok…?" I didn't understand why they were being so cryptic, but what did I have to lose that I haven't lost already?

That is, until we pulled into a parking lot of a strip mall I had been to a million times over. The house band and I have spent many an evening in this parking lot. Usually the band smoking pot and me drinking, but they were some unforgettable nights. I nearly lost my virginity a few times in this parking lot. The drummer and I had a brief thing. What can I say? I always heard that drummers knew how to bang.

But this time wasn't like all the others. We were parked in front of a salon where a lot of the women knew who I was or they knew my mom. I've been to this place a million and one times over, too, "Uh, what's this for?"

"You're coming with us to find some demons, right?" Dean assumed.

"Right."

"Well," Sam continued, "You got to look the part. And we need a picture to put on your fake IDs."

"I already have a fake ID," I reminded, "I had a drink with you guys last night."

"Yeah," Dean got a little more blunt, "We're talking more of your fake FBI ID. And if we're going to do that, the blue hair's got to go."

"But why?" I pouted.

"Because you have to pass for a federal agent," he elaborated, "They're already waiting."

"Eww…" I whined, "Fine. Any other color I want?"

"We already got your color picked," Dean gave me a little smirk, "Go on. We'll be waiting out here."

"I'm already regretting saying yes to you two," I rolled my eyes, slamming the car door on the way out.

"Hey!" Dean yelled at me out the window, "Leave my door on the hinge, alright? This car's older than you."

"It's older than you, too!" I retaliated. It's a good thing Cas mixed that Jack and Coke as strong as what he did. Because I wasn't going to want to do this sober.

As I walked in, I got the stock, "Lena, you've gotten so big! You look just like your mom! You look just like your dad!" Personally, I couldn't stand it, but I had half a buzz. I'd live. I still had to wrap my head around the fact that I was about to get a whole new life as a federal agent. Well…Fake federal agent, but still. I was going to be a suit. Gross.

Once the color was rinsed out and I caught a peek at it, I had to admit, I still looked pretty good. I missed the blue already, but I guess I could stay dark blonde for a while. I actually looked like I could fit in with the family. Odd. Or was that the idea? And once my light roots grew back in, I could go back to my natural color and be perfectly ok with that.

When I walked back out, the boys were sitting on the hood of the Impala, BS-ing about where they were going to find their next move. But in my slightly pissed stupor, I broke them up, "There. Happy?"

"You look human again," Dean praised, "It'll do."

"I feel naked," I grumbled.

"Come on," Sam tried to cheer me up, "Let's go."

"Hey," I stopped them, "Before we go trekking across the country, you think we could make a quick detour north?"

"How far north?" Sam asked.

"Sioux Falls," I said, "Before we leave town, I want to see my uncle. It's been a while."

"Us, too," Dean admitted, "Sure, Lena. We can do that."

"Hold on," Sam thought it over, "If you have an uncle that lives in Sioux Falls, why didn't you go live with him?"

"I wanted to," I sighed out, sliding in the back seat, "Believe me. I wanted to. But apparently, it wasn't a child friendly environment according to my social worker, so I ended up in the orphanage. And because he wasn't a blood relative, he wasn't allowed access to me. We kind of snuck around the system and we'd still see each other from time to time."

"Alright," Dean allowed, "We can head up to Sioux Falls. That's fine."

"After the anguish I was just forced into?" I scoffed, "You guys owe me."

"Because saving your life wasn't enough."

"There's not much to save," I rolled my eyes, "Trust me."

 **A/N: So, we're taking a little trip up to Sioux Falls to see Lena's uncle. And I couldn't go too long in this story without introducing Cas. Come on. Really? Now, it'd be cool if you guys would talk to me. I promise I don't bite. I'm a peach. And I'll usually respond pretty quick. We can be buddies. I have no problem with that. I'll see you next chapter! xx**


	3. Just a House

**A/N: Hi, guys. Just a slight warning. This is going to be a really heavy chapter. I cried a little writing it, but in my defense, I started writing it last night at an ungodly hour and I've been running on little to no sleep today, so it won't take much to get me emotional. Still, this is going to be a heavy chapter. My suggestion to you is to get yourself a blanket, warm and fuzzy. If you have some sort of pet, I'd have them nearby for emotional support. If not, I suggest a stuffed animal. You will need a hug later. So, good luck and godspeed. I'll see you at the bottom, ok?**

It had been a hot minute since I had been in Sioux Falls. My uncle had to travel a lot for work, so he wasn't home that often, but when he was, he made sure to come see me. I was too much of a small town kid, but I told myself that one day, I'd live in a big city. But something about Sioux Falls felt like the best of both worlds. And it always felt like home. Seeing it from the backseat of the Impala was like seeing it for the first time all over again. So foreign, yet so familiar.

"Alright, Lena," Dean broke the silence, "Welcome to Sioux Falls. If I were your uncle's house, where would I be?"

"Outskirts of town," I directed him, "Maybe I should be the one riding shotgun."

"No," Sam gave me such a little bitch face, "I get shotgun."

"That's right," his brother agreed, "You're new here, so we'll let that slide."

"Fine," I can't say I didn't try, "His house is just down the road from the salvage yard. You can't miss it."

Sam and Dean exchanged nervous glances, "Lena, how long has it been since you've seen your uncle?"

"A while," I thought it over, doing the math in my head, "Why?"

"Just making conversation," Dean shrugged, "Nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"No," I sighed, "It's been so long. I just hope he didn't forget about me."

"You don't seem like the forgettable type," Sam figured.

"Thanks," I blushed a bit. I always thought I was, but I guess not. As Dean rounded the corner, my heart that was full of hope and excitement came crashing down, shattering to pieces. The sign to the salvage yard barely hung on its chain. It looked like no one had been here in years. But what made my own personal horror movie even worse? The pile of ash where his house used to be, "What the hell…?"

"Lena?"

As soon as Dean killed the engine, I jumped out of the car and dropped to my knees by the front porch, "It was right here…"

"Lena," Sam approached me slowly, "What's your uncle's name?"

"He moved and this happened after," I brushed him off, trying to calm myself down, "That's all this is. He just moved."

"Lena," Dean put his hand on my shoulder, "Who are we looking for?"

"My uncle," my voice broke, "His name is Bobby Singer. This is Uncle Bobby's house. This is where I'd be when I'd tell the nuns I was going to hang out with a friend from school. I'd take the bus here. I played in the scrapyard all the time when I was younger. I can still hear him telling me to be careful around the rusty metal and any broken glass. He moved. I need to know where."

There it was again. That same nervous exchange from the boys again. The same one that only deepened the pit in my stomach. Uncle Bobby moved. Everything's ok. My blind optimism was going to be the one thing to keep me sane through this.

"Lena," Sam helped me back onto my feet, "Come on."

"Yeah," Dean took his keys from his pocket, "We've been on the road all day. Let's get a hotel for the night and we'll hit it hard in the morning. And you look like you could use a drink."

"Only if the angel's pouring."

The boys were right to get me out of there. The more I looked at it, the sicker it made me. And I could've definitely used that Jack and Coke Cas made me. But I'm sure whatever the minibar had would do the job just as well. And Dean was kind enough to pour one for me.

"Look, kiddo," he sat with me with his brother on the other side, "This isn't going to be easy to hear. Hell, it still sucks saying it."

"Oh, God…" my heart stopped, thinking the worst, "No…No."

"Would your uncle ever move?" Sam asked, with a slight hurt in his eyes.

"No," I swallowed the lump in my throat, chasing it with whiskey, "He's too set in his ways."

"Lena," he winced, "It's true. Bobby Singer has been gone for about six years now."

"Has it been that long?" Dean gasped.

"No," I snarled, "There are three things that are supposed to survive an apocalypse. Cockroaches, Twinkies, and Uncle Bobby. There's no way he's gone! There's just…no way…"

"We wish he wasn't either," Sam tried to offer some sort of comfort, but was falling a little flat, "Unfortunately, that's not the case."

"How?" I could hardly speak, "Please tell me it wasn't the fire. There is no way in hell that Bobby, most stubborn son of a bitch to ever walk this Earth, Singer died from a house fire."

"No," Dean promised, "It was a gunshot to the head."

"If it's any consolation," Sam topped me off, "Bobby did survive the apocalypse."

"I can't believe he's gone," a few tears escaped my eyes.

And before any more could fall, Dean had his arms around me. Oddly enough, I couldn't tell the difference between my shaking and his. But somehow, in that moment, I knew everything was going to be ok, "Us, too."

"Lena," Sam wondered, "If you and Bobby were so close, why have we never heard of you?"

"I don't know," I curled into Dean's shoulder.

"Think about it, Sam," Dean assumed, "If Bobby had his way, do you really think he would've raised us in the life? You know damn well he wanted to keep her out of this."

"Uncle Bobby was a hunter?" I asked.

"You didn't know?" Sam looked at me like I was on drugs, "It was kind of a huge part of who he was."

"No idea."

"I guess he really did want to keep you out of the life," Dean cradled me, "Can't really blame him. But here we are, dragging you into the fray."

"I agreed to it," I pointed out, getting emotional again, "Uncle Bobby was the only family I had left. He was the closest thing I ever had to a dad."

"Us, too, some days," Sam sighed out, "Not all the time, but most of it."

"So, you guys knew him, too?" I wiped my eyes.

"Oh yeah," Dean nodded, "We knew Bobby pretty well. He was our uncle, too."

"Biological or like me?"

"Like you," he held me a little tighter, "He was a good friend of the family after our mom died. In a way, he kind of taught us most of what we know. Our uncle saved a lot of people, Lena. That's all you need to know about him."

"As sick as this is going to sound," I requested, gripping the pendent around my neck like one would normally hold a cross, "You think we could go back to the scrapyard? I have a feeling he never left."

"Sure," Sam tossed Dean the keys to the Impala and we headed back for Uncle Bobby's.

The whole ride there I was completely numb. Maybe from the shock. Maybe from the whiskey. Either way, I went flat. Happy nor sad. Just…existing. Almost robotic. I never knew how I'd react to grief. My parents were dead. My grandparents died before I was born on both sides. Mom and Dad were only children, so I didn't have any other extended family. But I had Uncle Bobby. And now…Now, I don't even have him anymore.

I sipped on my replacement cup that had mostly become whiskey at this point and sat on the hood of the Impala, basking in the sad nostalgia filling my heart. The boys were nice enough to give me a little space. Deep in the bowels of the scrapyard, there was the body of a beat up '65 Mustang convertible that I had fallen in love with the first time I came here. It was nothing for me to get lost in here and end up in the passenger seat of this car. Uncle Bobby told me that one day, he'd fix it for me. But I guess that's not going to happen.

For old time's sake, I decided to see if it was still there. Sure enough, there she was. There was my baby, still the same faded shade of blue. Still felt the same when I sat in it. Damn near fell asleep in her steering wheel just like the old days. One day, sweetheart. One day, I'll get you out of here. A shame you're still even here. The little gem of the scrapyard. Just like me.

"Lena!"

Another time, beautiful. Another time. I gave the car a kiss on her dash and ran back to the boys, "Yeah?"

"It's getting kind of late," Dean threw an arm around me, "You want to start heading back?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "We can do that."

"Are you sure?" Sam worried, "Take all the time you need."

"I'm sure," I sucked down some more of my whiskey, "We can go. I really don't feel like crying anymore."

"Ok," Dean hugged me tight, "You still have family, Lena. If you and Bobby were as close as you say you were, he would come back and kick our asses personally if we shunned you away."

"Definitely," I giggled a bit, peeling back the lid on my cup and poured the rest of it out, "To Bobby."

"To Bobby…"

 **A/N: I need a hug. And to lay down for a while. I know I've been watching Supernatural for a while now and I should have a thicker skin developed, but it sucks losing family. Especially Bobby. Out of every Supernatural death, I think his hit me the hardest. Aside from one that I'll deny until the cows come home. But all that aside, if you have anything you want and/or need to see, feel free to drop it in the reviews. I do occasionally take a suggestion. Also, if you didn't pick up from chapter one that Bobby was Lena's uncle, you need to be clubbed. See you next chapter! xx**


	4. Happy Birthday, Dean

**A/N: Hi, guys! The following is a warning for those sensitive to adorable moments and prone to wanting to reach through the screen and hug the characters for being so cute. After last week's hard chapter, I thought I'd give you something a little easier to swallow. It's going to be squeal worthy cute, so I suggest having something warm to drink nearby. Now, I write, you read, we talk later? Ok!**

After what felt like an eternity, I woke up in the backseat of the Impala from a depression nap. Between the rumble of the engine and the radio softly playing the classics, it was oddly soothing. I could stand another hour or two, but I'd live. The car stopped in front of some door in the side of some hill. Ok…Not sure how to feel about this. Seemed like somewhere someone would go to kill someone, but I have a feeling that's not at all what was happening. Just me overthinking.

"Welcome home, kiddo," Dean pushed the door open, "Bunker sweet bunker."

Behind that door was a vast labyrinth of halls and rooms and cold steel, "You guys live here?"

"For what it's worth," Sam nodded, "Welcome to the bunker."

"Alright, Lena," Dean threw his keys on the table, "House rules. Don't trash the place and don't tell anyone it's here."

"So," I sat down, "Treat this place the Batcave?"

"Exactly," Dean grinned at his brother, "See? I told you, Sammy. I'm Batman. Lena even said we live in the Batcave."

"Ok, Dean," Sam rolled his eyes, "You're Batman."

"Would that make you Robin, Sam?" I thought Dean was going to piss himself.

"What are you laughing at?" Sam snapped at him, immediately jumping on the defensive.

"The thought of you in green tights," Dean doubled over, "And that would make Cas Alfred."

"Look on the bright side, Sam," I tried to curb the situation, "Dick Grayson Robin turned into Nightwing and became a badass in his own right. Or the Red Hood, if you want to go off the Jason Todd Robin. I won't judge."

"Um…" Sam gave me a look, "There's more than one Robin?"

"I think there's five," I thought it over, "Why?"

"Wow," Dean gasped, "You are some kind of nerd, aren't you?"

"A little," I brushed him off, "It's not like I had any male figures in my life aside from Uncle Bobby, who I saw once in a blue moon. So, I found comfort in comics. And anime, too. If you want, Dean, I can be awfully generous with certain links to certain websites."

"How'd you know about that?" he shot me a quick glare.

"You left me alone with your laptop," I reminded him, "Or do we not remember that?"

"It's password protected."

"Wouldn't be my first hacking job."

"Aren't you a little handful," Dean sighed out, "Go rest up, Lena. It's been a long drive. You're going to have a long day tomorrow."

"And where can do that?" I wondered.

"Come on," Sam offered, "It's easy to get lost in this place. I'll show you an empty bedroom."

"Ok," I followed Sam down three different hallways and I'm pretty sure a couple counties and finally got to a room I had to pack a lunch to get to. A blank canvas for me to do with what I please.

"It's not much," he let me in, "But it's a place to sleep."

"It's the first bedroom I've had to myself since I was six months old," I threw myself on the bed, "I'm not complaining. It's perfect."

"If you need anything," Sam sat with me, "Tell us. Either one. My room is down the hall to the left. Dean's is to the right."

"Thanks, Sam," I rested my head on his shoulder, "I do appreciate everything you and Dean have done for me."

"You know," he wrapped his arm around me, "Things might look a little bleak now, but trust me. Things are going to get much better for you. We promise we won't let anything happen to you, Lena. You don't deserve it. Now, get some sleep, ok? When Dean says you'll have a long day tomorrow, he's not kidding."

"Ok," I kicked my shoes off and made myself comfortable, "Night."

"Good night," Sam killed the light on his way out and shut the door behind him. Is this what home felt like? A warm bed and people who care? Because I could seriously get used to home. I know I'm sounding cheesy, but when they say home is where the heart is…I get it.

When I woke up, I wasn't sure if it was day or night. There weren't any windows in the bunker. I did like the occasional sunshine hitting me in the face when I woke up. But I felt suspiciously well-rested. I thought both Sam and Dean told me I was in for a long day. I rolled over and grabbed my phone off the nightstand. Noon? What the hell? I got up to scope around the bunker and found a note taped to my door.

 _Lena,_

 _We got a case. Easy job. Practically a milk run._

 _We'll be back in a little while._

 _Dean_

Would've been nice if they would've woke me up and told me that themselves. But no sense in dwelling on it now. Because by the smell of things, something was burning. And a giant pit opened in my stomach. No. After seeing Uncle Bobby's house and my history with fires screwing me over, I bolted toward the smell in sheer panic. And immediately settled after hearing an angel spewing assorted obscenities. Something was burning.

"Cas," my heart settled, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Nothing," he turned around and was practically head to toe in flour. This wasn't nothing.

"Are you sure?" I asked, "Because you're covered in flour and damn near burned the kitchen down."

"No…"

"Were…" I surveyed the damage a little closer, "Were you baking?"

"Trying to," he caved, "It's Dean's birthday and I was attempting to make a pie."

"You do know that birthdays are traditionally celebrated with cake, right?" I hoped.

"Yes," Cas nodded, "But Dean would rather pie. Cake and pie are not the same in his eyes. Sam once learned that the hard way."

"Oh, honey," my heart melted, "Come on. Where's the nearest grocery store from here?"

"Six miles from here."

"Well," I said, "You wouldn't happen to have human transportation, would you?"

"I do," Cas confirmed, taking my arm. Next thing I knew, we were in the middle of said grocery store, "This is much quicker. What are we doing here?"

"I'm going to help you," I got a cart, "Why? Because I feel like adding 'helping an angel make a pie' to my karma bank can't hurt."

"What do we need?" he asked, looking a little overwhelmed by the magnitude of the task he's taken on.

"More flour," I ran down the list, "What kind of pie were you thinking?"

"Apple."

"Perfect," I kept thinking, "Good shortening, too. And some lemon juice. I doubt we have any cinnamon."

"What do you want me to do?"

"You're going to go pick out some apples," I assigned, "I'm going to grab everything else because I'm afraid it'd give you an aneurysm."

"Anything in particular?" Cas started toward the produce section.

"Big ones," I called after him, "Granny Smith."

And with our objectives in mind, I split away from the angel on my shoulder and grabbed everything else we needed. This was bringing back some memories. I hadn't baked in quite some time, but I had one of Aunt Karen's recipes that Uncle Bobby gave me a long time ago burned in the back of my brain. I could probably manage.

"Lena," Cas came back with a bag full of beautiful Granny Smith apples and I just wanted to kiss him, "Are these good enough?"

"They're perfect, Cas," I praised, putting them in our cart.

"And I got the lemon juice, too," he put the bottle down, "Did you get everything else?"

"Yep," I nodded, "Now, there's one thing I need you to do for me."

"What is it?"

"I need you to score my cigarettes for me," I begged, "I ran out in Sioux Falls and I could really use one right about now. And a lighter."

"It really goes against my better judgment," Cas tried not to show it, but there was something in his eyes, "But I'll do it."

"Marlboro lights," I kissed his cheek, "Thank you, Castiel. You are a gentleman and a scholar."

"If I really were more of a gentleman," he defended, "I wouldn't be getting them for you at all."

"I'm helping you with Dean's birthday pie," I pointed out, "It's the least you can do for me."

"Fine," Cas agreed, "I'll do it."

"Thank you!"

Did I feel horrible for blackmailing an angel? Kind of. Was I going to let it get me down too much? Not really. Either way, I was getting what I wanted and right now, I had a mighty need. The two of us pushed through the line and got to the cashier. As we put everything on the belt, he looked everything over. Between me looking like I hadn't gotten any sleep in weeks and Cas looking like he abducted me, he was right to be a little skeptical.

"Is this all for you?" he asked, looking awfully worried about my well-being.

"I…" Cas hesitated, "I need a pack of Marlboro lights."

"Sure," the guy reached under the counter and put them on our bill. Then, he leaned over to me, "Are you ok, sweetheart?"

"Fine," I assured, "Come on, Dad. We need to have this pie done before my brother comes home."

"Ok," Cas took my hand like I was six, "It's time to go now."

"You two have a nice day," he still looked uncomfortable.

"Thank you," I smiled sweetly while stabbing him in my mind. Once we were somewhere out of eyeshot of everyone, Cas and I beamed back to the bunker. While we were still outside, I took the opportunity to finally get a cigarette in. As a small cloud of smoke rolled off my lips, a sweet feeling of relief crashed over me. I know they're going to kill me one day, but everything's going to kill me one day. Might as well do what I want.

I kicked the butt into the road and went back inside to find Cas attempting to put the crust together. We all know how well that worked the first time. Almost immediately, I threw my coat on a chair and intercepted the bowl, "I got it, Cas. Go cut apples for me."

"How do you know how to do all of this?" he asked.

"When I was still living at the orphanage," I started cutting the flour and the shortening, "I did most of the baking. It was how the nuns kept me off the streets and off drugs."

"But it didn't keep you from drinking and smoking?"

"They didn't know about that," I rolled my eyes, "Could you pour some water in this please?"

"Sure." Cas got a glass from the cabinet and we got to work. Fortunately, I had control of the oven and custody of the pie while it was baking to keep it from burning. Again. A few hours later, the burning smell had dissipated along with the good pie smell just in time for the door to open.

"Lena!" Dean called out, "We're back!"

"Kitchen!" I yelled back.

"You ok?" he worried, "You manage without us for a while?"

"I lived," I gave Cas a quick wink, "Come here!"

"What am I smelling?" Dean asked, his footsteps growing closer and closer.

"Ask the angel," I beamed as he stepped through the door, "Happy birthday, Dean."

"Is…" Dean's eyes grew wide, "Is that…?"

"Made it himself," I nudged the angel forward, "Couldn't be prouder."

"Wow," Dean took the plate from me, "Thanks, Cas."

"You're welcome," he blushed a little, completely unable to make eye contact. All while I sat back and watched the color in his cheeks deepen and Dean's fill up like a chipmunk.

"Damn," Dean murmured, "This isn't bad."

I'd hope not. According to Uncle Bobby, Aunt Karen was a damn fine baker. That's why he gave me her recipe. It was a rarity he had leftover pie in his fridge when I made it for him. Only when I made it, I soaked the apples in bourbon for a day before making the pie. And I'd kill to make that pie for him again.

 **A/N: Some casual Destiel-ish good enough for you? It should be. This chapter's adorable! And since it** ** _was_** **Dean's birthday the other day, (but I had an Ouran update to do) I figured we could give him a little something, something. So, happy birthday, Dean Winchester, and I'll see you next chapter! xx**


	5. Training Day

**A/N: Anyone else finding this a tad ironic that I'm posting this on Groundhog Day? Anyone hearing Heat of the Moment yet?**

Knock, knock…

No, Fredrico…Don't go…

Knock, knock.

"Lena," Dean called from the other side of my door, "Wake up, princess."

Dammit. There goes my naughty dream, "Bite me, Dean."

"No," he kept knocking, each one sounding like a bomb going off, "It's time to get up."

"Go away, Dean," I buried my face in my pillows.

"I can't do that," Dean still pounded on my door, "I told you we had training to do. You got to skip out on that yesterday because we got a gig. Today, we got nothing. Get up, Lena."

"Fine!" I snarled. God, it made me wish for the nuns back again, "I'll get up!"

"That's my girl," he chimed. I put my pants on, grabbed my cigarettes and my light, and pushed the door open, only to find Dean with a big ass grin on his face, "Good morning, sunshine."

"I. Hate you," I glared through his soul. Someone must have forgotten that I'm not exactly a morning person.

"No, you don't," he figured, "Now, come on. We got work to do."

"You think I could go out for a smoke first?" I grumbled, "Maybe a cup of coffee?"

"Go ahead," Dean allowed, "You know those things'll kill you."

"A demon nearly killed me," I reminded him, "Hell, a homeless guy with a busted beer bottle nearly killed me. My smoking habit is the least of my worries. You're more than welcome to join me."

"I'm good," Dean shot me down as the two of us went into the kitchen. I needed coffee and I needed it now.

"Hey," Sam caught a glimpse of me, "Good morning, Lena."

"Morning," I rubbed my eyes.

"You sleep ok?" he asked.

"I've had better," I brushed him off, dragging myself to the coffee pot in the corner, "But I'll live. That's why I have coffee."

"So, Dean's coping mechanisms," he joked. I was starting to like Sam. With my current disdain for Dean, I needed that. And the pissed off look on his face warmed my heart a little, "Look, if you need any help, I got a bottle of melatonin in my room. Help yourself."

"Since when do you keep sleeping pills in your room?" Dean gave him a look.

"They're not sleeping pills," Sam rolled his eyes, "They're vitamins."

"Thank you, Sam," I gave him a nod, stopping a fight before it could start, "Now, if you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I'll be outside if you need me."

I left those two in the kitchen to hopefully not hurt themselves and leaned against the door to the bunker. For it being January in Kansas, it wasn't too bad out here. Granted, it still had a bit of chill in the air, but it was also Kansas in January. I'd live, though. Between the warmth of my coffee and the warmth of my cigarette, I'd be fine.

Maybe this whole adventure won't be half bad. It's times like these where I wished Uncle Bobby would appear to me like Luke and Obi-wan. What do I do, Uncle Bobby? I know damn well you didn't want the hunter's life for me. Being with Sam and Dean as long as I have been and the incident at the scrapyard was all the proof I needed. But what do I do?

Where do I go from here? I knew I was lost when I was still living in Hartford, but this is almost worse. I'm completely on my own. As much as I hated them, at least I had the nuns to fall back on. Does this mean Sam and Dean have become my new nuns? They did say they unofficially adopted me. Are these boys supposed to be the ones to find me?

With every drag off my cigarette, I got to thinking. I wonder if Uncle Bobby knew about Mom and Dad's deal. If he knew about what happened. If he and I were so close because of that. Something to ease his guilt. Uncle Bobby was a hunter. I'm sure he could've done something to stop them from dying. Anything to keep the housefire from never happening.

"He tried, Lena," Sam put his hand on my shoulder, making me damn near jump out of my skin. And Dean wasn't too far behind, "He really did."

"How long have you been there?" I caught my breath.

"You know," Dean put an arm around me, "Bobby had told us about a job that had gone sideways a while back. And how he lost a couple friends of his. He held you at their funeral, Lena. And he wasn't putting you down."

"First time we ever saw Bobby with a baby," Sam chuckled a bit to break the tension.

"So," I blew out the last little cloud of smoke and the possibility of me crying again, "Uncle Bobby tried to stop it? He did all he could?"

"That's the story we got," Dean pulled me to his hip, "You done? You ok?"

"Yeah."

"Come on," he took my hand, "Let's go blow off some steam, ok?"

"Ok."

Dean and I wandered through the labyrinth that the bunker is and ended up in the basement. If an underground bunker can have a basement. Why was I not surprised this place had a shooting range in it? Were these two actually serial killers or did they just fight the monsters? At this point, it was a warm place to sleep, the occasional food in my stomach, and some halfway decent company. I wasn't going to complain.

"Alright, Lena," Dean loaded a small pistol, "Ever shoot a gun before?"

"No," I shook my head.

"Any sort of projectile weapon?"

"No."

"Slingshot?"

"No!"

"What kind of childhood did you have?" he scoffed, putting the gun in my hand, "Anyway. It's simple. Point. Shoot. Watch for the kick."

"What kick?" I wondered.

"When you pull the trigger," he explained, "the gun will push back. See the targets back there?"

"Yeah," I looked toward the end of the lane at what looked like some military grade targets.

"I want you to hit that one in the throat," Dean pointed, "And because I'm such a nice guy, your gun's pretty mellow. Give it a shot."

"Dad joke intended?" I rolled my eyes.

"No," he giggled, "But I'm kind of glad it happened. Go on."

I did my best to line up my shot and pulled the trigger. A little bit of a jolt from the gun shook my hands, but I never lost control. So, I had that going for me. After the smoke cleared, I could see where my shot hit. Missed. Got him in the shoulder. Sorry, Mr. Paper Man. You're living from that. You shall see another day.

"Dammit!" I snapped, "That wasn't supposed to happen."

"It's alright," Dean settled me, "Relax. Let's try it again. Aim for the chest."

"Ok," I shook it off. I got this. I can do this.

Bang!

Dead center.

"Um," Dean gave me a look, "What was that?"

"I don't know."

"Go for throat again," he demanded.

Bang!

Right in the jugular. Yeah. Sorry, dude. You're not living.

In complete disbelief, Dean looked me over, "Are you sure you've never shot in your life? Were you bluffing?"

"I swear," I promised, "I guess I just needed a warm up shot."

"One shot, though?" he squeaked.

"Maybe," I gave him a shrug.

"Good," Dean brushed me off, "That means you're a quick study. How's your hand to hand?"

"Well," I thought back, "Some of the older boys would pick on me a lot, so I had to defend myself somehow. The only reason I didn't fight back with the bum was because he caught me off guard. And he was stronger than he looked."

"Alright then," he let it go, "Show me what you got. Come at me."

"You first," I insisted, "A lady never starts a fight."

"Alright," Dean came at me with a quick punch that I managed to block. I got a tight grip on his wrist, pulled his arm behind his back, and jumped on him. Once I got him pinned to the floor, I didn't realize I left his legs unpinned. And I got the heel of Dean's boot in my back, giving him the in to get on top of me, putting me in a headlock between his thighs, "You're quick, kiddo. I have to give you that. But you still have a long way to go, grasshopper."

"Do I?" I gasped for breath and did the only thing I could think of...And took a bite out of his thigh.

"Ow!" he twitched, letting me go, "What the hell? Did you just bite me?"

"Yes, I did," I nodded.

"That's not fair!"

"All's fair in love and war, sweetie," I got up and attempted to fix myself.

"Hey, Dean!" Sam called, walking in on…whatever the hell just happened, according to his face, "What's going on in here…? You do realize she's fourteen, right?"

"What do you want, Sam?" Dean brushed him off.

"Well," Sam regained his footing, "We got a case. Mesa, Arizona. A couple were found dead in their living room. And according to the coroner, it looked like a weird suicide pact."

"And how is this our thing?" Dean wondered.

"The same thing was missing from both of them," he went on, "Care to take a guess?"

"What's the lunar cycle look like?"

"Full."

"Fan-freaking-tastic," Dean grumbled, "Congratulations, Lena. Looks like you're cutting your hunter's teeth on a werewolf."

"What?" I squealed.

"And we'll need to make a pit stop at a Kinko's," Sam thought out loud.

"Hold on," I tried my best to wrap my head around this, "I'm coming with?"

"Yep," Dean allowed, "Grab your coat. We're leaving in ten."

"Ok," I blinked off the approaching dizzy spell, "Wait a minute. Why do we have to stop at a Kinko's?"

"I have to make your FBI badge," Sam caught me, "At least they won't think you're fourteen."

"You can do that at a Kinko's…?"

 **A/N: Well, kids. Looks like we're going on our first hunt! Werewolves in Arizona. Sounds like a grand, old time. And the boys are finally giving Lena her first alias! Who shall she be? And who the hell is Fredrico? All questions that will be answered eventually. So, I'll see you next chapter! xx**


	6. Baby's First Hunt

Come on, Dean. I'm only young once and I could only take Sam drilling me on monsters for so long. How long did it take to make a fake ID? It feels like it's been hours! Who would've thought it would've taken an eternity to make a fake FBI badge? When I got my first fake ID, I had it within twenty minutes and I've been drinking for free in bars ever since. What? I'm cute. I get by. Or should I say Alana Willis got by.

"Alright, Lena," Dean finally came back after my crash course in creepy, "Here you go. Your first Fake ID for a federal agency."

"I'll take it as a great honor," I looked it over, "My God, Dean. This is some fine craftsmanship. You should teach my guy."

"You have an ID guy?" Sam gave me a look.

"Who else would I have gotten my fake ID from?" I pointed out.

"Well," Dean smiled, "I try."

"You succeed," I studied it a little closer, "Special Agent Christine Hynde?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "What about it?"

"I like it," I beamed, "Do my friends call me Chrissie?"

"You get the reference?" Sam asked.

"Uh, hell yeah," I squeaked, "You underestimate my music taste. Don't do that."

About twenty minutes later, the welcome sign of Mesa greeted us. I've never been to Arizona. Dry. Hot. I already didn't like it and wanted to go back to the bunker. Maybe once we get checked in to our motel, things would get better. Maybe I'd catch something from this place. Oh yeah. I was going to need a booster shot after this.

"Home sweet home," Dean threw his bags on one of the beds.

"Our ideas of home differ greatly," I cringed, "I feel like I've seen this motel in a porno once."

"Probably have," Sam giggled a bit, "You're fourteen. You shouldn't be watching porn."

"Do you know how many times the nuns took my computer away?" I scoffed, "I taught myself how to hack because of the website blocks. There's no keeping me out of anything anymore. And by the way, Dean, you might want to clear your internet history a little better."

"What?" Dean went completely pale.

"And I have some better links to show you that won't infect your computer," I smirked.

"Come on," he took my hand and started dragging me out the door.

"Where are we going?" I wondered. Going by Dean's grip, I hit a little bit of a sensitive area.

"We're going shopping," Dean said, "Sammy, you know where you're going?"

"Coroner," Sam called out, "I'll keep you posted."

"We shouldn't be too long," Dean fired up the car's engine and I jumped in the passenger side.

"So," I asked, "Why are we going shopping while Sam goes to the coroner?"

"Same reason you can't have blue hair."

"Eww," I slid down in the seat, "Why couldn't you have made me a press pass?"

"Because," he explained, "Feds get access to a whole hell of a lot more than press. Sorry, kiddo. Welcome to the bureau."

"Thanks," I grumbled sarcastically.

I didn't want a pantsuit. I couldn't even get a pencil skirt. But a damn pantsuit? On the plus side, I looked like a lady pimp. Hell, I even had Sam and Dean to pimp out. But on the not so plus side, it was gray. I don't look good in gray. I was as pale as they come and to put gray on me made me look even worse.

I came out of the dressing room to get Dean's seal of approval, "Good enough?"

"Not bad," he looked me over.

"Not good either," I winced, "The things I do to find the demon I need to drive a knife through."

"Hey," Dean picked my head up, "We'll find them. And we'll save as many people as we can in the process. So, for now, we have a werewolf to take care of, ok? Can you tough it out until then?"

I let out a heavy sigh, "Yeah."

"Alright," he threw an arm around me, "Let's go pay and get out of here. Anything else you want while we're here?"

"No," I shook my head, "I'm good."

I waited by the car while Dean paid for my fed suit and took the opportunity for a smoke break. Dean didn't want me smoking in the car. And I couldn't blame him. In all good conscience, I couldn't do it. Not to that interior. But I'd live. The fresh air was kind of nice. At least I wasn't freezing my balls off.

"Here, Lena," Dean threw a garment bag at me, "Get dressed."

"Here?"

"Just as good a place as any," we got in and Dean pulled out of the parking lot, "And we're meeting up with Sam at the coroner's office."

"Fine," I climbed into the backseat, "Just keep your eyes on the road and no sneaking peeks in the rearview, got it?"

"What kind of twisted pervert do you think I am?" he chuckled a bit, "I won't look at your butterfly tramp stamp and your ex's name on your ass cheek."

"I don't have any tattoos," I rolled my eyes, "And you thought I was legal when we met! So, I do take you as a slightly twisted pervert."

"Make sure the tags are off, jailbait."

"Got it," I yanked the plastic tabs off the blazer and the pants and buttoned up my blouse, "I hate this. I hate this so much."

"No one said it'd be a picnic," Dean shrugged as I jumped back in the passenger seat, "How about a little music to lift the spirits?"

"Sounds good to me."

Ring, ring.

"Tapes are in the glove box," he gave me a nod, answering his phone, "Yeah...Got it. On our way."

"What was that all about?" I asked while Dean threw his phone in the empty seat.

"Sam," he filled me in, "We got two more bodies."

The look in Dean's eyes was enough to break one's heart. There was none. He was completely hollow. Not ten minutes ago, I saw this man smile. Now? Dean had gone numb. And once we got to the crime scene crawling with cops and paramedics, it didn't get any better.

"Excuse me," one of the officers stopped us, "You can't be here."

"Yes, we can," Dean flipped open his badge, "Agent Page. This is Agent Hynde. She's my rookie. My partner, Agent Plant, is already in there."

"Yeah," Sam came around the corner, "They're with me."

"Well," the cop reported, "We got another couple. It's not pretty."

"Did they have any enemies?" I asked, making Sam and Dean snap their necks toward me.

"No," he said, "They were pretty well loved by the community. If you knew them, you'd know it's impossible to hate them. College sweethearts. Ran the church bake sale. They were good people."

"Mind if we take a look around?" Dean requested.

"You sure?" the cop looked toward me, "There's a lot of blood in there. Second case this week. Looks like it could be a cult kind of thing."

"I'm sure we can manage," I assured, "I've probably seen worse."

"Go ahead."

The boys and I went inside the house and saw a forensics unit coming in and out like a revolving door, taking pictures, evidence. Anything they could find. The cop wasn't wrong. There was a lot of blood.

"Excuse us, gentlemen," Sam cleared the room out, "Special agents."

The forensics team had all they were looking for anyway, so they all filed out and let the professionals handle things. My God. Aside from the blood, this place wasn't too bad. Kind of nice. Like what I imagined my house being like before the fire. A nice single story in the suburbs. Made me feel a weird fuzzy feeling for a memory I never had.

"Lena," Dean called for me, "You got a gun on you?"

"Yep!"

"Atta girl," he praised, "Be careful. Now, what kills a werewolf?"

"Silver bullet," I answered, "Right in the heart. You saw my targets."

"Just checking," Dean squeaked.

I ran my finger through the dust on the bookshelf and found an old high school yearbook. What could I say? I'm sentimental. I couldn't help myself and had to thumb through it. As I fanned through the pages, a polaroid fell from the book of one of the victims and a woman that wasn't the other victim.

"Aww," I gushed, "Is this what high school's intended to be like?"

"Barking up the wrong tree, sister," Dean brushed me off, "Sam, go see what she's got."

"Hold on," Sam looked over my shoulder at the picture, "I saw the same girl at the other victim's house."

"Hell hath no fury like a lover scorn," I figured, "You think she's who we're looking for?"

"There's a good chance," he took the polaroid, "She probably dated the first guy, too. According to the yearbook, her name is Candace Queen."

"Candace Queen..." Dean thought it over, "Why does that ring a bell?"

"Do you know her?" Sam wondered, "I don't ever remember us being in Mesa before."

"I think I might have come through here with Dad once," Dean shook it off, "Whatever. Let's go pay Candy a visit, shall we?"

The three of us got in the car and Sam did a quick lookup of the woman's address. When we got to the house, it looked like no one was home. There's a disappointment. We got out and knocked on the door.

Nothing.

"Do we huff and puff and blow her house down?" I wondered.

"No," Dean chuckled a bit under his breath, "We wait for tonight. She'll come out looking for another meal."

"What do we do until then?" I followed them both back to the car.

"I don't know about you," he stuck the keys in the ignition, "I could use a drink."

"Me, too."

For the first time in a week, we had caught a break in the form of a high table at the bar. And another wave of warm nostalgia crashed over me. I missed my usual bar. The bartender here didn't try to hit on me and never left me the bottle. The house band didn't even exist. Just a jukebox. I missed home already.

"On the plus side," Sam pointed out, "It's not a hybrid."

"And you're not doing too bad for your first time out, Lena," Dean toasted, "You earned a drink or two. What's your poison?"

"I want a big strawberry daiquiri," I ordered, "And a banana colada! Combine the two? Yum!"

"Are you serious?"

"No," I giggled, rolling my eyes, "I want a Jack and Coke."

"You're definitely Bobby's niece, aren't you?" Sam got my drink.

"Last time I checked," I swung my feet absentmindedly under the table.

"Damn," Dean grumbled, "Why the hell does Candace Queen sound so familiar? That's going to drive me nuts."

"I don't know," I got up, "But I'm going to go to the bathroom. I should be right back."

"Hey, princess," some guy came up to me. I was afraid to put him around an open flame, "Think I could buy you a drink?"

"No, thanks," I shot him down, "I'm already pretty drunk."

"Then, you're already saving me a step," he put his arm around me, "Why don't you come back to my place? I'm sure we could have a good time."

"She said no, man," Dean stopped him.

"And who are you?" Douchebag asked, keeping his hold on me.

"We're her brothers," Sam stepped in.

"Don't worry, boys," he promised, "I'll have her home in the morning."

"So will we," Dean defended, "Back off."

"You know," the guy cupped my face in his hand, "You look like the kind of girl where your mouth may say no, but your eyes are saying yes."

"And when my mouth says no," I jumped down the guy's throat, "My eyes are saying go to Hell. Don't get all pissed off because I said no to you. The blow to your ego isn't my problem."

But he was going to make it my problem. Both of the guy's arms went around my waist and pinned me against him, "You're a feisty little bitch, aren't you?"

"With a black belt in jujitsu," I growled at him, "I suggest you let me go before I pee on your leg."

"I can get on board with that," he allowed, "If that's what you're into, baby."

"You know what I'm really into?" I rammed my knee into his crotch, making him drop to the floor, "Not you. Now, what did we learn?"

"Leave you alone?" Douchebag choked out.

"Good boy," I gave him a little slap to the cheek, "Now, I'm going to go to the bathroom. If you follow me, this is going to look a whole lot better than what I will do."

"Um, Chrissie," Dean called me over, "A word, please?"

"What?" I asked, finishing off my drink.

"Are you ok?" Sam checked me over.

"Fine," I promised, "Not the first asshat I've had to deal with. Now, I really do have to pee."

"Just one more question," Dean stopped me.

"What?" I groaned, "I can feel my kidneys seizing up on me."

"Do you really have that black belt?"

"God, it's a good thing you're pretty," I rolled my eyes and went for the bathroom. And the sweet relief of an empty bladder sent chills down my spine. Hot damn, that was borderline a religious experience. I went to go wash my hands and a dark-haired woman popped up behind me, not saying a word. Just staring, "Hi."

"Are you here with Dean Winchester?" she asked bluntly.

"Um," I looked her over, "Yeah. Why?"

With one swift punch, the woman had me knocked out and on the floor.

After I came to, I did a quick glance around the room. Some big, empty warehouse that looked like it was held together with safety pins and duct tape. And the smell of wet dog was choking me. What the hell? I was tied to my chair. That's fun. Fantastic.

"You're awake." The woman from the bathroom?

"What do you want with me?" I asked, hoping that if I kept calm and buried the fear deep inside, she'd eventually let me go.

"I loved him," she began, "I loved Dean very much. And now, we're going to see how much he loves you."

"Look, lady…"

"Candace," she cut me off, "My name is Candace. Dean left me!"

Uh-oh…

"I'm sure we can-"

"Just like Caleb did," Candace snarled, "Just like Alan did. And now, I'm going to wait for him to get here, just so I can rip your heart out in front of him. Then, I'm going to take his, too."

I saw a pair of shadows behind her and my stomach instantly settled, "Doubtful."

"And why is that?"

"Because," I gave her a smirk, "My phone's still on, isn't it?"

"What phone?" Candace asked, "You didn't have a phone."

"Yes, I did," I watched Dean come up behind her and ready his gun, "And I'm sure the GPS is on."

BANG!

"Not to mention, he's right behind you," I sighed out, "Thanks, Dean."

"Don't mention it," he brushed me off while Sam started untying me, "Like…Ever."

"She knew you," I told him.

"Yeah," Dean nodded, "And I knew her. Job about fifteen years back."

"Dean," I studied him, "How well did you know her?"

"Enough," he growled, "Let's just leave it at that."

"Dude," Sam gave him a look, "You didn't…"

"I didn't know she was a werewolf!" Dean squealed.

"Question," I followed him closely on the way out, "When you two were in the throes of passion, did you ask to do it her style?"

"We should've left you, Lena," he kept walking.

"But you wouldn't," I assured, wrapping myself around Dean's arm, "You love me and you know it or you wouldn't have stood up for me in the bar."

"Yet you ended up getting jumped by the thing we were after."

"Look on the bright side," I took out one of my cigarettes and sat on the hood of the Impala, "We got it, didn't we?"

"Yeah."

"And a look into Dean's taste in women," Sam teased.

"I bet she was a real bitch," I added.

"I didn't know!" Dean got in, slamming the door.

"So?" I wondered, "Where to now?"

"Home."

 **A/N: I feel like I just wrote an entire episode. Abbreviated episode, but an episode nonetheless. And now, we're headed back to the bunker for more fun and excitement. Or hopefully a lazy, rainy afternoon. Maybe a decent night's sleep. A long bath. That sounds nice. But then again, this is a Supernatural fic, so things aren't going to be calm for long. We all know that. See you next chapter! xx**


	7. What Happens in Vegas

Sixteen and a half hours of pure hell in a car with Sam and Dean occasionally bickering over just about anything. SIXTEEN AND A HALF HOURS. Who made a better James Bond between Sean Connery and Pierce Brosnan. If chocolate dipped bacon is a gift or an abomination. My God...If either one of them weren't driving, I'd knock their heads together just to shut them up. I could've said no. I could've washed my hands of them and walked away. I could still be under the overpass. But no. I had to stay with them.

Thankfully, we got back to the bunker in one piece without me killing them with my bare hands. That sixteen and a half hours had gone on far too long. Although, it was kind of nice to get a decent amount of sleep in the back seat. I couldn't complain. I threw myself in one of the chairs at the table in the main room, "Can we call this case a win?"

"I'd say so," Dean sat across from me, "Got the monster. Saved you. No one else is going to get hurt."

"But four people are still dead," I sighed out, "If this were a win, wouldn't the body count be a zero?"

"Look, Lena," Sam put a hand on my shoulder, "If hunting has taught us anything, it's that we can't save everyone. And we can't dwell on those we didn't save. If we were to do that, we'd slowly lose our minds."

"That's right," Dean cracked a beer, "So, instead of thinking about the ones we couldn't save, we focus on the ones we do save. And we save as many people as we can. That's how we sleep at night. So, yes. This is a win. Because you don't know how many more Candace was going to go after."

"Alright," I melted onto the tabletop, "What do we do now?"

"Well," Sam exchanged glances with his brother.

"You see, Lena," Dean told, "You couldn't have come to us at a better time, but this is the usual time of year when Sam and I...We have a thing. And you can't come with us."

"Why not?" I wondered.

"It's our annual trip to Vegas," Sam confessed, "It's kind of tradition."

"Oh," I chirped "Ok. You boys have fun."

"Wait a minute," Dean gave me a look, "You're not pissed that we're going to leave you here by yourself for a week?"

"No," I shook my head, "You two had lives before I came along. Who am I to upset your apple cart? Go. Go play in Vegas. Go have fun. I'll live without you for a week."

"Lena..."

"What?"

Dean threw his arms around me, "You're awesome. You're going to make a man happy one day."

"Because I'm as low maintenance as a goldfish?" I giggled, "Ok. I guess I'll take that as a compliment."

"And you're sure this is ok?" Sam winced.

"Yes!" I squeaked, "Go! Don't get into trouble. Call if you need anything. I'm not going anywhere."

"Alright," Dean let it go, "Cas is going to drop in and check on you every now and then. Just to make sure you're doing ok."

"Dean," I shut him up, "I'll be fine. You two go play. You deserve it."

"Ok," Sam hugged me tight, "Don't trash the place."

"And no parties either," Dean threw that in.

"All my friends are either dead or in South Dakota," I joked darkly, "I'm not throwing any ragers here. Now, go! Hookers and bad decisions await you."

"See you in a week, kiddo!" Dean called out, shutting the door behind him.

The whole bunker to myself for the week. What to do, what to do. Honestly, I wanted to take a can of Pledge and wipe the six layers of dust off everything. Seriously, do these boys not have a housekeeper? Not to sound like that stuck-up bitch, but this is kind of ridiculous.

I didn't have that kind of ambition to clean the entire bunker. Something tells me this place is much more extensive than what I've seen. One good thing about Sam and Dean leaving for Vegas? They left a laptop behind. Bless them. Maybe a little Google searching would be a good idea. Just so I know what kind of sociopaths I'm living with.

Search: Sam and Dean Winchester.

Huh. There's some very colorful fanart here. And...slash fans? Eww. I practically lived on the internet. I knew it had a dark, seedy underbelly, but this? This bears a striking resemblance to the Sam and Dean I knew. Wait a minute. What's Supernatural? A series of books by American author Carver Edlund about the lives of brothers Sam and Dean Winchester who will kill anything that goes bump in the night...Gee. Where have I heard that before? Color me intrigued.

Then, I found something that sucker punched me right in the heart. Not only were these books actually about Sam and Dean's lives, but everyone they knew. As I went through the story, I found a chapter called Tall Tales about Sam and Dean encountering a trickster. But with the help of an old family friend. And the description. An old, bitter, surly drunk that was ready to knock their heads together at any given moment.

Uncle Bobby. Had to be. I never knew about his life as a hunter, but maybe this could help me piece some things together. With every page, every line, I kept getting more and more sucked into the books. Once I looked back up again, I noticed the clock said it was two o'clock in the morning and I should probably consider going to bed. But there were so many more. I need to read all of them.

Bed, Lena. You need to go to bed or your eyes are going to start burning between the light from the computer screen and the fact that you're hardly blinking. After reading through the first couple books, I could've really used a hug. Maybe some Netflix and a good night's sleep.

"Hello, Lena," a voice broke the silence and made my heart stop.

"Jesus, Cas!" I caught my breath, "Learn to knock, man."

"My apologies," Cas said, "I'm making sure you're doing ok."

"I know," I nodded, "Dean told me you'd be stopping by. Again."

"What have you been doing?" he asked.

"Well," I told him, "I've been doing some reading and I was just about to go to bed."

"Studying lore books?"

"In a way," I nodded, "I found these Supernatural books online and they're really well-written, for the most part. I mean, they can't all be masterpieces, right? But let's just say they've been very informative."

Castiel's face froze. Or maybe it was still the way it had always been. I could never tell with him, "How far have you gotten?"

"I just got past the part where Dean sold his soul," I looked up at the angel in front of me, "Are all of these true?"

"Yes," he confirmed, "The Supernatural books aren't just works of fiction."

"So," I walked with Cas toward my bedroom, "The boys have gone through all of this?"

"Wait until the beginning of the fourth book," a little smile graced his face, "If I had to pick a favorite, that may be it."

"And why's that?"

"Do you really want me to spoil it?" he jabbed.

"No," I let out a heavy, defeated sigh, "Now, as much as I love you being here, Cas, I'm going to go to bed."

"That's fine," Cas allowed, "Are you sure you're doing alright?"

"I'm emotionally compromised," I chuckled darkly, "But I think I'll be ok. They might be hits and misses, but this Carver Edlund guy knows how to tug at the heartstrings."

"I know what you mean."

I hadn't been here long, but I still didn't like having anyone else in my room except for me. This had become my inner sanctum. But I think I could make an exception for Cas. I mean, the dude had a damn halo. I'm pretty sure he's not going to try anything stupid. Especially when he gets the biggest case of heart eyes when he's around Dean. There's a good chance that I'm...ahem...not his type.

"Really, Cas," I promised, "I'm good. And if I need anything, I'll give you a call. But until then, I'm going to do that whole human thing and sleep."

"Could I watch over you?" he offered, "With Sam and Dean in Las Vegas, I don't really have much else going on."

"Were you barred from the Vegas trip, too?" I snuggled into my bed. My loving, comfortable bed.

"I was told to stay and watch you."

"So, yes?"

"Yes."

"Oh, my dear, sweet, simple Castiel," I giggled deliriously, "Thank you. I'm pretty sure that I'd lose my damn mind in here by myself for a week, so I appreciate you coming over. If you want, I guess you can watch over me while I'm sleeping."

"You'll be fine, Lena," Cas assured me, sitting at the edge of my bed, "The bunker is heavily warded against most monsters. No one will be able to find you."

"Thanks, Cas," I curled into his hip, "Really."

"Um," the angel's face turned bright red, completely unsure of what his next move should be. In a twisted way, I was getting a bit of delight out of this. Cautiously, Cas put his arm around me, "You're welcome?"

"It's alright, sweetie," I settled him, "This is perfectly fine. Good night."

"Good night."

And within the next few minutes, I fell asleep. I fell hard and I fell fast. I wasn't sure if it was the bed or the angel, but I sunk into a sweet, sweet slumber. And because Sam and Dean weren't here, no one would wake me. I'd be able to sleep all night and all day, if I so choose! No waking up early because of a case. No waking up early because of weapons training. I'm sleeping until noon and no one's going to stop me. The only one that could is Cas and I'm pretty sure he knows I'd kick the crap out of him if he tried.

Ring, ring.

Ugh...

Ring, ring.

What the hell...?

Ring, ring.

This can't be happening.

I rolled over and grabbed my phone off the nightstand. Looks like Cas left once I fell asleep. Sam, "This better be a life and death situation, Sam, or I'm going to find you and kill you."

"Hey, Lena," Sam cringed on the other end, "I just woke you up, didn't I?"

"Never mind that now," I brushed him off, "How's Vegas?"

"Um," he hesitated, "I need you to call Cas and have him bring you here. It's important."

"Is everything ok?" I sat up in bed.

"Well..."

"Sam," I worried, "What's going on?"

"Get here first," he demanded, "I'll explain everything then."

"Ok," I agreed, "I'll be there as soon as I can."

Click.

I've read enough of the Supernatural books to know those boys get into some scary shenanigans. God only knows what they've gotten themselves into now. Their lives were one Scooby Doo mystery after another. I guess the thing to do now is call Cas.

Once I got a hold of the little angel, the two of us embarked on a quick trip out to Vegas and found Sam pacing nervously outside their hotel room door. Damn, boys. When you do Vegas, you're sleeping in style. A nice hotel, room service. There weren't even slots by the door. Classy joint.

"Hey," I stopped Sam from pacing, "What's going on?"

"Well," he bit his lip, "What you're about to see on the other side of this door may shock you."

"Thank you, Buzzfeed," I rolled my eyes, "What's going on, Sam? None of this beating around the bush crap. Just tell me. Wait...Where's Dean?"

"Sam!" a voice growled in the room, "Do we have any aspirin? I feel like I'm dying!"

"Hold on," Sam yelled back, "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"Positive," I settled him.

"Alright," he pushed the door open and a blonde woman was laying on one of the beds in a fetal position with her back toward the door.

"This is why you called me?" I gave Sam the biggest bitch face, "So I could meet your new Vegas wedding wife?"

"Lena," Sam whispered to me, "That's Dean."

"Hold on," I dragged his ass out of the room, "You're serious?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "That's Dean."

"You're screwing with me."

"I wish I was."

"Ok," I brought myself down, "What happened last night?"

"We went out to the bars," Sam recalled, "Dean got really trashed."

"Surprise, surprise."

"And he was hitting on this woman."

"Again. Not telling me anything I haven't seen before."

"She gave him a good slap to the face," Sam went on, "And when we got back to the hotel, we both went to sleep and he woke up like...Well, like that. He's in constant pain and I don't think we have any aspirin left."

"So," I figured, "You called me to take care of Dean while you're working the case?"

"No," he shook his head, "I need you to work the case with me. Dean's in no condition to do much of anything."

"Alright," I looked in on him...her...once more, "First, we should probably hit a drug store."

"Why?"

"Because Dean woke up a woman," I pointed out, "What do you think his pain and suffering is?"

"Oh, God," the color in Sam's face went bye-bye, "No."

"Yeah," I shared the sentiment, "Drug store. Now."

Sam and I left Dean to wallow in his newly discovered misery and headed for the nearest drug store. Because I loved him, I let Sam stay in the car while I did a supply run for Dean. I didn't want to be the one to have to give him the talk. Not that talk. I'm pretty sure he's done puberty once. He doesn't need to see it unfold again.

When I came back out, I had a heating pad, ice cream, pie, and a bottle of painkillers. I debated on whether or not Sam and I should zip through a drive-thru and get him a large order of French fries. No. Gut instinct told me Dean would rather sweet than salty at this point. Once we got back to the hotel, he was still balled up on the bed, practically in tears.

"Dean?" I approached him slowly with Sam following close behind, "You ok, sweetie?"

"Lena?" he rolled over, "What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were still at the bunker."

"Sam called me," I threw him under the bus, "He said you weren't feeling too hot."

"I've never had a hangover this bad," Dean rubbed his eyes, "Everything hurts and I feel like death."

"Look," I dug the bottle of painkillers out of one of the bags, "I brought you a present."

"Painkillers?" he hoped.

"Sort of," I tossed him the bottle.

Dean glanced it over with a look of confusion, "Uh, Lena...This is Midol."

"Yeah," I plugged in the heating pad, "Here. You might want to spoon with this, too."

"Why did you give me Midol?" he wondered, "Last time I checked, I'm hungover, not hormonal. Not to mention, I'm a dude."

"You, uh," I cringed, "You may want to check that again."

"What?" Dean gave me a WTF face, jumping up to get to a mirror, "What the hell? I'm dreaming. I'm definitely dreaming."

"I thought you couldn't feel pain in your dreams," I pointed out.

"I'm still dreaming," he freaked a little, "I'm not..."

"Look what we got here," Sam pulled a small satchel out from under Dean's bed.

"Is that...?"

"Hex bag," Sam nodded, "You pissed off a witch, Dean."

"On the plus side," Dean looked over his new body, "I'm a hot woman."

"That's nice, Dean," I rolled my eyes. At least he was thinking positive.

"Freakin' witches," he grumbled, "Have I ever mentioned how much I LOATHE witches?"

"Once or twice," Sam confirmed.

"You know what?" Dean had a brief epiphany, "I bet it was the one from last night."

"Which one?"

"I don't know," he racked his brain, "Mandy? Mindy? Missy? Something like that."

"If I didn't know any better," Sam thought out loud, "I'd think Gabriel was behind this."

"But Gabriel's dead," Dean reminded him, getting hit with another wave of super intense pain, "Just kill the bitch, Sam!"

"Got it," he grabbed the Impala keys off the table, "Lena, you bring your fed suit?"

"Yep."

"Let's roll."

"Wait a minute," Dean stopped us, "You're just going to leave me?"

"We have to," I said, "How else are we going to get you back to normal?"

"Go ahead," his voice broke. Uh-oh, "First, you leave me for Stanford, Sam. Then, Dad leaves me for Azazel. Lena's probably going to leave me, too. Is this how it's going to be? Am I just destined to be alone?"

"Dean," I cradled him against my chest, "I promise you we'll be back. We have to go kill a witch first, ok?"

"I don't know what just happened," Dean worried, "But I never want that to happen again. Go drop a house on this bitch."

"We'll be right back," I kissed his forehead.

"Promise?"

"I promise," I did a quick change and left with Sam to go find any information we can on whoever Dean was with last night. First stop was the first bar they went to last night.

"Can I help you two?" the bartender greeted us, immediately looking over at me, "Are you even old enough to be in here?"

"Special Agent Hynde," I whipped out my badge, "This is my partner, Agent Sambora. We need to ask you a few questions."

"Oh," he settled, "Sorry. You just look really young for your age."

"Not the first person to tell me that," I kept myself from rolling my eyes, "Probably not the last."

"We need to meet with your wait staff," Sam took over, "Anyone who was working last night."

"What's this all about?" the bartender asked.

"We're looking for someone specific," he brushed him off, "Do you have anyone here named Mandy? Or maybe Mindy?"

"Or Missy?" I added.

"All three," the bartender told, "They're the best of friends. They're always together. And they were all working last night."

Dean, what did you get yourself into...? Pull yourself together, Lena, "And did you see any of them with a man? Obviously not a local? Green eyes? Wore more plaid than anyone should be entitled to? Leather jacket?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "Why would you be looking into them, though? They're all good girls."

"Do you know where they'd be right now?" Sam asked.

"It's not them we're interested in," I covered, "It's him. He's a repeat offender. We need to take him in."

The bartender shrugged, "What's today?"

"Thursday."

"They went to get their nails done," he figured, "It's their weekly tradition. They're on the schedule for tonight."

"Thank you for your time," Sam gave him a little courtesy smile and the two of us got back in the car, "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I doubt it," I gave him a look.

"Coven," he figured, "Not good. We'll probably have to end all three of them."

"Fantastic," I groaned, "So, what do we do now?"

"We should probably check in on Dean," Sam sighed out, "Make sure he's not jumping off the balcony."

"Capital idea," I agreed, grabbing my phone out of the cup holder.

"Hello?" a voice rumbled on the other end.

"Hey, Cas," I chirped, "It's Lena. Think you could do me a solid?"

"What?" Sam squeaked, "You were supposed to be..."

"Of course," Cas took it, "What do you need?"

"Go check on Dean," I told him, shutting Sam up, "He looks a little different than he normally does. Sam and I are after a little coven of witches that have put Dean under a curse. Whatever you do, don't do anything to upset him. He's a little sensitive right now."

"Ok," he said, "I'll keep you updated."

"Thank you, sweetie," I smiled, hanging up my phone, while Sam still pouted at me, "What?"

"You pawned Dean off on Cas?" Sam judged.

"Yeah," I shrugged, "We have other things to do. I'm sure Cas is ok with it."

"You have no shame either, do you?"

"Nope!"

"So," Sam got his head back in the game, "What's the plan? You got anything?"

"These witches have a tongue-in-cheek way of doing things, yeah?" I assumed.

"Yeah."

"Well," I explained, "Since I've been so good at being bait, maybe we could go to the bar again tonight and you could be that guy to not get no means no."

"Like that guy in Mesa?" Thanks for that reminder, Sam.

"Yeah," I shuddered, "Seeing a woman in distress will probably trigger something in them and they'll try to go after you, doing the same thing they did to Dean. That's when we put a few rounds in their chests each."

"You really are taking to the hunter's lifestyle like a duck to water, Lena," Sam praised, "Not sure if I should be proud of you or terrified."

"Both," I smiled, "What's my current last name, Sam?"

"According to your FBI badge," he teased, "It's Hynde. According to us, I'm pretty sure we could claim you as Winchester."

"But we all know I got a little bit of Singer in me, too," I felt a warmth radiating to my toes.

"Oh, yeah," Sam agreed, "Bobby would be the same combination of proud and disappointed in you, Lena."

"Why disappointed?"

"You became a hunter," Sam pulled away from the bar.

"It was inevitable," I admitted, "Like it was in the cards."

Ring, ring.

"Who's that?"

"Huh," I slid my finger across the screen, "Hey, Cas. What's up?"

"I'm in need of back up," his voice shook, "I'm not sure what I did or what I should do."

"Put Dean on the phone," I held back a little giggle.

"Lena?" Dean sobbed.

"Hey, honey," I diffused him, "You feeling ok?"

"My chest hurts," he wept, "It feels heavy. And it feels like my appendix is about to burst."

"Is your stomach pain down and to the right?"

"No," Dean described it, "It's right under my bellybutton and it keeps moving lower. I don't want to walk. And Cas is no help. He's an idiot."

"It's not your appendix," I promised, "Did you take anything?"

"All we got is Midol!"

"Take some!" I demanded, "Trust me. It'll make you feel better. If you're still miserable in the next four hours, let me know and I'll score you something stronger."

"How you doing on the witch front?" Dean switched tangents, "You find the girl?"

"Apparently," I caught him up, "You were with all three of them last night."

"Good for me," he gave himself a pat on the back, "Find them and kill them already!"

"On it," I hung up.

"How's he doing?" Sam cringed.

"Not good," I sighed out, "I'm not going out in my fed suit and you need to look like a douchebag. Let's go get some disguises."

Finally, I could dress slutty and have an excuse for it. Sam and I split off and I looked for something that someone could see from space. It's Vegas. I could be covered in glitter and nobody would care. It's practically camouflage. I prayed for anyone that would dare hit on me while Sam and I were out tonight. If Mesa was any indication, I'm sure Sam wouldn't hesitate to deck someone for me.

As night fell over Vegas, I looked like a Bond girl while Sam looked like a standard, run of the mill, douchebag. Perfect. He did me proud. Right down to the sunglasses inside and at night. Yikes. I gave him a quick look over and cringed.

"What?" he pouted, "You told me to."

"And you didn't disappoint," I praised, pulling the blankets over sleeping Dean, "Cas, you got everything under control here?"

"I think so," Cas gave me a nod, "He should be out for the night."

"Good," I kissed the angel's cheek, then Dean's, "Watch him."

"I will."

Sam and I went out to the bar, ready to bag us a few witches. After I swatted a few drunk morons off me, Sam came in and took a seat next to me, "Hey! Could I get a beer down here?"

"Sure," one of them, Mindy, going by her name tag, slid a beer to Sam.

"And a pina colada to my lady friend here," he put his arm around me, making me shiver, "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Chrissie," I tried moving away from him.

"You know," Sam put his hand to my cheek, "You're awfully cute. What's a girl like you doing alone in a place like this?"

"Trying to have a drink in peace," I shook him off.

"Hey," Mandy, another one, stepped in, "Is everything ok here?"

"Fine," Sam gave me a dirty little grin, "Just making new friends here."

"No," I shoved him.

"Hey, Miss," Mindy called over her shoulder, "We got a valued customer."

"Do we now?" Witch number three showed her face, "Instead of having her, sir, why don't meet the three of us outside?"

"Alright," Sam sang, "A little ménage a trois, ladies?"

"Something like that," Mandy smirked, "We'll be out there soon. Just give us a minute."

Sam jumped off his barstool, leaving me alone, and Mindy took my hand, "Hey, are you ok, honey?"

"I'm fine," I assured, "Thanks. That guy was all kinds of cringy."

"You should've seen the one in here last night," she gagged, "He was using every line in the book and was drunk as a pig. I think he got what he deserved. And now, this guy will, too. Don't worry."

"Thank you," I smiled sweetly, walking out of the bar through the front door. I popped the trunk of the car and got out a gun with a few bullets in it. According to Sam, these were enough to kill a witch. I tucked it into my garter belt and snuck around back, watching Sam get the ever-living hell beaten out of him.

Mandy, Mindy, and Missy were passing Sam around like a joint at a Bob Marley concert, setting up whatever ritual they were about to perform. Missy had Sam pinned on the ground. I had to give it to her. To keep someone like him down, she had to be hella strong. Good for her.

"Hey, bitch!" I got her attention, pointing the gun at her, "Get your ass off my brother."

"Brother?" the three of them glared daggers in me.

"Lena!" Sam yelled, "Pull the trigger!"

I didn't even hesitate. Bang, bang, bang. Three witches down, "You're welcome."

"Thanks."

Sam had a look of worry in his eyes. I did just kill three people. I understood where he was coming from. Then again, they had hurt one of my brothers already. I didn't want to have to deal with both Dean _and_ Sam being whiny. I could hardly manage having me being whiny. I helped Sam onto his feet and the two of us swung by the liquor store before going back to the hotel.

"Dean?" I called into the room, "Where are you?"

"Bathroom," he opened the door, fully male again, "Guessing you two took care of things?"

"Lena did," Sam gave me all the credit and the bottle of whiskey, "She's the one that pulled the trigger."

"You killed three witches?" Dean had the same worried look Sam had, "You doing ok?"

"I did what I had to do," I took a quick shot, "It's taken care of."

"Obviously," he chuckled, "Never again. Never do I ever want to go through that again. Indoor plumbing didn't suit me. How in the hell do you do it, Lena?"

"Years of practice," I shrugged, "So, does this mean Vegas week has officially been ruined?"

"No," Sam shook his head, "Everything's good."

"There was one time during Vegas week Sam ended up getting married," Dean recalled, "She was all kinds of crazy."

"We don't talk about Becky," Sam glared a hole through his brother. And balance was restored to the universe.

 **A/N: I needed something campy. A little cracky. And honestly, if it wasn't witches, I was going to make it Gabriel, but unfortunately…I miss Gabriel. And if this never becomes an episode of Supernatural, I'll be highly disappointed. See you next chapter! xx**


	8. You Can't Go Home Again

**A/N: TW; self-harm and death.**

With these past few months I've been with Sam and Dean, I've never felt so alive. Waking up every day, kicking monster ass, saving people. Life had purpose. I had a reason to wake up in the morning. All the notches in my knife handle weren't going to make themselves. I had to admit, I've become a damn fine hunter. You'd be proud of me, Uncle Bobby.

Then again, some days, I actually missed the days of the orphanage. Not necessarily the orphanage itself, but the people around me. My makeshift family that I found on my own. Although, my new family loved me a little more, I still missed the old one. And the days when things were a lot more simple.

But the constant adrenaline rush was pretty great, too. And this time around, the family felt more like a family than the old one. I knew that either Sam or Dean would be more than prepared to take a bullet for me. Amazing how quick that happened. They came off just as guarded as I am. It can't just be the kindred spirit thing that brought me to them. The first and last time I'll ever listen to my social worker.

A typical rainy day in the bunker was about the closest thing we would ever get to a day off. And with Dean's last...incident in Vegas that we agreed to never talk about again, it was perfect. No monsters. No werewolves tearing their exes' hearts out. No wandering into the ladies room and getting kidnapped. No lunatic witches wanting to do more than just smash the patriarchy. Everything was good for a change.

"I'm BORED!" Dean whined, "I've probably washed every vehicle in the bunker at least twice by now. You find anything, Sam?"

"Nothing," Sam scrolled through his bookmarks, "As far as the weird stuff goes, it's pretty quiet."

"Isn't that a good thing?" I figured, "Don't we want it to be radio silent?"

"Things are never good when they're this quiet," Dean worried, "Something has to be going down somewhere."

"Or we could not look this gift horse in the mouth," I settled him, "And we find something to occupy your time. Ever consider taking up sudoku?"

"Thanks, Lena," he rolled his eyes, "You're a real help."

"I do my best," I smirked.

Then, my phone started ringing. Not just any phone. My phone. Not the one Sam and Dean got for me for whenever we're in crap we don't want to be in, but someone has to do it. It had been the first time since I left that my actual phone even rang. I'm pretty sure I "died" in the orphanage fire according to the paperwork.

"What's that?" Dean gave me a look.

"My phone," I stared blankly at the screen.

"Answer it."

I slid my finger across, "Hello?"

"Hey, Lena," a shaky voice answered on the other end.

"Brendon?" I asked, "Hey. What's up?"

"It's Mel," his voice broke, "You know how she was big as a house pregnant?"

Brenden and Mel were the mom and dad of our group. Brenden played guitar for the bar's house band and he called Mel his favorite groupie. They were the first to get married and the first to start having babies. Hell, Mel would always be the one holding my hair in the bathroom when I'd be too drunk to see straight. Last I had heard, she was very pregnant with a pair of twins. Boy and a girl. They always teased me, saying they'd name their first born after me. When Mel said she was pregnant with twins, they said they couldn't name both of them Lena.

"Yeah," I nodded, "Did you guys finally have the babies? I know she was a week overdue."

"She had both the babies," Brenden quivered, "A few days ago."

"Brenden," I knew something wasn't right, "Is everything ok?"

"No," he never was the type to openly start crying, so this had to be something monumental.

"Are the babies ok?" I worried.

"Yeah," Brenden could hardly talk at this point, "But Mel..."

"Oh my God..." my heart shattered to a million pieces. That's why it took him so long to call me, "I'll be up as soon as I can."

"Thanks, Lena," he sobbed.

"No problem, sweetie," my hands started shaking as I put my phone down.

"Lena?" Sam looked me over, assessing my current mental state.

"Lena?" Dean shared his concern, "What's up?"

"A friend of mine just called," I swallowed the lump in my throat, "I have to go."

"Go where?"

"I have to go home," I got up from the table, "That friend I told you about? His wife died. She was a good friend of mine, too."

"We're so sorry," Sam empathized.

"Alright," Dean grabbed his keys, "You want us to come with you?"

"If you want," I allowed, throwing my bag over my shoulder, "I'm not going to stop you."

"Come here, sweetheart," he pulled me against his chest, "I know you're not as desensitized to this crap as we are yet."

"I'm fine," I brushed him off, "I'm not the one that just lost my wife. Or will never know my mother because she died after I was born."

As the words tumbled out of my mouth, Mel's death hit me in a place I didn't know existed. I needed to have those babies in my arms like yesterday. And their dad. If anyone was going to know what it was like to grow up not knowing their mom, it'd be me. And if we're being honest about the Supernatural books, Sam, too.

"Lena?" Dean gave me a nudge. Must have blanked out.

"Yeah," I shook it off, "I'm coming."

Sam, Dean, and I shut the bunker down and headed north. I wasn't looking forward to this. I hadn't been back home in so long. To be honest, I thought everyone would've forgotten about me. For their own sake, so they didn't have to worry about me. I'd be ok. Always would. No matter my situation. I persevered. But this? This wasn't going to be pretty.

The night sky and the Hartford welcome sign greeted us and it was like I had seen a ghost. I got the same knot in my stomach I had when the three of us were in the scrapyard. Only this time, it was worse. I knew why I was here. I was about to go to a funeral that came too soon. The whole ride there kept me miserably numb.

"Alright, Lena," Dean checked me over, "You want us to go to the funeral with you?"

"You guys already came here with me," I shot him down, "You don't need to go to the funeral, too. You guys didn't know Mel. Not like I did."

"You sure?" Sam asked, "A little solidarity?"

"I'm fine," I growled a bit, "I'm going to go have a cigarette and be out of here."

"Alright." That was the thing about both those boys. They knew when to back the hell off. Besides, the walk coupled with the nicotine would help me clear my head. And they knew I'd be perfectly safe. I kept my knife in my boot just in case the bum from the underpass decided to come back to screw with me. At this point, there's no way he'd be coming out of it alive.

All of a sudden, I felt a slight wind at my back. That slight wind felt familiar. Kind of warm and comforting, but still horrendously confused by the way humanity worked. That could only mean one thing, "Hi, Cas."

"You knew it was me?" the angel walked with me as a cloud of smoke rolled out of my mouth.

"Yeah," I stepped my cigarette out, already having another in my mouth, and kicked it into the street, "What other angels do I know?"

"I don't know," Cas cocked his head, "Do you know any other angels?"

"I don't think so," I lit my next one, "What brings you to my humble little town?"

"You," he gave me his arm, "Are you alright?"

"I just lost a friend, Cas," I rested my head on his shoulder, "What do you think?"

"I think you're using angry, bitter sarcasm to cover up your emotions," Cas shrugged, "But nothing I've never dealt with before."

"Filter, sweetie," I rolled my eyes, "You might need to develop one."

"Sorry."

"If you want to make yourself useful," I pulled a ten out of my pocket, "And go get me another pack of smokes, I'll love you forever."

"Sure," Cas took my money and walked to the convenience store down the road for me. Good. A chance for me to be alone with my thoughts. That wasn't a scary thought. Fortunately, the funeral home was coming up. And I found the whole family outside doing the same thing I was.

"Hey, boys," I sat on the steps next to Brenden and threw his arms around him.

"Hey, Lena," he squeezed me back, "Thanks for coming, hon."

"Of course," I rested my head on his shoulder, "You know I wouldn't miss this. How you holding up?"

"I haven't been able to sleep in two days," Brenden admitted, "But I don't want to meet the man that can sleep soundly after something like this."

"You and me both," I steadied his trembling hands, "Where are the twins?"

"Inside with Mel's mom," he wiped his eyes.

"Lena," Cas showed back up with my full pack, "Here."

"Thanks, Cas," I peeled the plastic off them, "Brenden, you want one?"

"Yes, please," Brenden took a cigarette out of the pack and I lit it for him. Then, I did the same.

"So, Lena," Luke, the drummer I had the brief thing with, tapped on my lower back with his foot, "Who's your buddy here?"

"Guys," I introduced, "This is Cas. He's a friend of mine."

"Friend?" Mark, the bassist, teased, "Or special friend?"

"I'm fourteen, you sick son of a bitch," I rolled my eyes, "He's not my sugar daddy."

"Thanks, Mark," Brenden chuckled a bit, "I needed that."

"You guys are jerks," I blew out a little cloud of smoke, "I hope you know that."

"I'm an ass with a heart of gold, though," Mark kissed my cheek.

"Good to meet you, though, Cas," Brenden mustered up a little bit of a smile, "Wish it was under better circumstances."

"Yes," Cas nodded, "I'm sorry about your wife. From what Lena's told me, she was a wonderful woman."

"That girl was my little guardian angel," he reminisced, making Cas perk up a little, "If it weren't for her, I'd probably still be looped on smack or dead in the gutter. She made me who I became. It sucks that the kids won't know that."

"They'll know," I assured, wrapping myself around his arm, "Trust me. They'll know. They just need someone to remind them of her regularly."

"Looks like that's going to have to be me," Brenden figured, "You know...Once it stops hurting."

"Brenden, look at me," I took his hands, "I had someone like that. My uncle told me all about my parents. Both of them. And I do think about what would be happening if they were still around on a daily basis. Lucky for you, you have all of us. I'm sure we can find a way to keep the memory alive until you can tell them yourself."

"Thanks, Lena," he hugged me tight, "I really appreciate that."

"You guys got him?" I asked, "Because I got a niece and nephew to go love all over."

"I'll be alright," Brenden let me go, kissing my cheek, "Go mush the babies."

"Before I do that," I got up, flicking the end of my cigarette into the grass, "I should probably know what to call them."

"The girl is Brena," he said, "The boy is Adam."

"Ok," I took Cas' hand and the two of us went inside to find a grieving mother with her grandchildren, "Hey Cas. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Cas allowed, "What is it?"

"When people say that someone that died is going to a better place," I wondered, "Is it really a better place?"

"You're asking about Heaven?" he assumed.

"Yeah."

"It's different for everyone," Cas explained, "What may be one's idea of Heaven may be completely different for someone else."

"In that case," I quivered a bit, "Would you be able to know what my parents' Heaven looks like?"

"I can't tell you that."

Of course, he couldn't. I know I wanted to do this alone, but I had to admit it was going to be a whole lot easier to have someone here. And I had a gut feeling the boys sent Cas to me, but regardless, it doesn't hurt to have an angel on my shoulder.

When we walked into the parlor where Mel's casket had been, I found her mom sitting in a rocking chair with both babies in her arms and bottles in their mouths. And tears welling up in her eyes. I couldn't let her sit there alone.

"Think you could use a hand?" I offered, taking one of the twins from her, "Hi, Janet."

"Thank you, Lena," she sobbed, "My arm was starting to fall asleep."

"No problem," I sat down on the couch, "I'm so sorry about Mel. We'll all miss her, I'm sure."

"She made it really hard for anyone not to love her," Janet wiped her eyes.

"That's for sure," I agreed, "So, which one do I have, Brena or Adam?"

"That's Brena," she rocked, "Wait for her to open her eyes. They're just like Mel."

"At least she's not completely lost," I snuggled the sleeping baby in my arms, feeling a weird, strong maternal connection.

"She is in a better place," Cas took Janet's hand, "I can assure you that."

"Thank you," she gave him a look, "I'm sorry. Did you know Mel, too?"

"No," he said, "But Lena's told me enough. Mel is in a better place. A beautiful place."

"I don't even know what to believe anymore," Janet's eyes started leaking, "What kind of a just god would allow something like this to happen?"

"I don't know," I looked down at the beautiful baby I had, "But don't you worry, Brena. Both you and your brother have to stick together. I would've killed to have a brother. Instead, I lucked out and got two. We'll get through this, Janet. I know we will."

"How do you know?"

"Because," I smiled a little, "Mel would come back and haunt our asses."

"Yeah," I got a smile out of her mother, "She would. But it'd be completely worth it to see her face again."

Before another word was said, Brena started crying. I did all I could to make it stop. I bounced her. I tried sticking her bottle back in her mouth. Her diaper was bone dry. I panicked, "What's the matter, sweetie? What seems to be your problem?"

"Do you mind?" Cas asked, offering his assistance.

"No offense, Cas," I stopped him, "But have you ever handled a baby before?"

"A few of them," he nodded, "Give her to me."

"What are you going to do?" Janet got nervous as I handed her granddaughter off.

"She's collicky," Cas told her, getting Brena to settle down, "Severely. She should be alright now."

Brena fell back to sleep in Cas' arms. I gave him a little pop in the shoulder, "I think she likes you, Cas."

"Well," he looked down to her, "I like you, too. You're simple and have your whole life ahead of you."

Then, a wave of grief hit me. A lot harder than what I wanted it to. It felt like it was bubbling under my skin and I needed to get it out. I excused myself and ran into the nearest bathroom. It had been a while, but I knew one way to make this feeling go away. And I knew I was going to hate myself for it, but I had no other choice.

I took my knife out of my boot and...I can't even bring myself to say it in my own monologing in my head. I remember many a night where Mel would take whatever sharp object in my hand away from me. It's just too bad I don't have her to do that anymore. I'd have to go on the rest of my life without the closest thing I had to a best friend.

But even worse, I had to go back out with three new scratches on my left arm. I had long sleeves on my jacket. Easy enough to cover them up. I kissed the babies goodbye and dragged Cas out of there. I wanted to go back to the motel, drink myself into oblivion, and go back to the bunker. Was that too much to ask?

"Hey, Lena," Brenden stopped me, "There's going to be a memorial for Mel at the bar tonight. You should come."

"I'll think about it," I wiped my eyes, falling into his embrace, "I'll see you later, sweetie."

"See you," he kissed the top of my head and sent me on my way. I just wanted to go back by myself, but of course, my usual babysitter followed closely behind me while I lit up another cigarette. I had to break the uncomfortable silence somehow.

"Hey, Cas," I wondered, "How did you get Brena to settle down?"

"I think you forget what I am sometimes," he took my hand...my left one specifically. And a white light emanated from his fingertips, "I healed her. And you."

"Me?" I played dumb, "What do you mean?"

"The cuts on your wrist," Cas knew. Of course Cas knew. He's a damn angel, "I could smell the blood when you broke the skin."

"Make me a promise," I blew smoke rings out, "Don't tell them. For the love of God, don't tell Sam and Dean."

"I won't," he swore, "However, I'm going to have to ask you for your knife."

"Understandable," I pulled it out of my boot, "I'm sorry, Cas. I got low."

"There are better ways of handling that."

"I know," I rolled my eyes, "Like I said, I got low. I don't need the lecture."

"Alright."

"Cas," I sighed out, "If it's cool with you, I'm going to go on my own for a while. There's nothing I can hurt myself with and I promise I won't walk out into oncoming traffic."

"That's fine," he poofed out. I really hoped he kept my dirty little secret. Although, if I remembered correctly, there was a way of getting Mel back. Those babies didn't need to grow up without a mommy. I know how much that sucked. I remembered seeing something in the bunker about a summoning ritual for a demon. I'm sure if I made deal with one, they'd trade Mel for me.

First, I needed to find a crossroads and get some graveyard dirt. Lucky me was already at a graveyard next to the funeral parlor. I couldn't be there for Mel's burial. That would've been a mess. A few more odds and ends...And now, we wait for the demon to show up.

"Hello, darling," a man in a dark suit popped up, "It's not often I come to these kinds of things anymore, but color me nostalgic. What can I do for you?"

"Bring my friend back," I demanded, "She's a fresh soul in Heaven. Hard to miss."

"And in exchange," he conjured a long contract, "You'll give me your soul. You understand that, right? I'll be back in ten years to collect."

"It's worth it," I choked back the tears in my throat.

All of a sudden, the familiar engine of a '67 Impala rumbled behind me. And a pair of gentlemen jumped out from both sides of the car. Dammit. I was really hoping those two wouldn't have gotten involved. I could hear the lecture now. Don't do it, Lena. It's eternal damnation. And all the crap that came along with making a deal.

"Lena!" Dean yelled after me.

"What?" I rolled my eyes.

"Hello, boys," the demon in front of me chimed, "Long time, no see."

"Cas," I looked toward the angel, "Did you tell them?"

"No," Sam stopped me.

"He did," Dean nodded toward the demon I summoned, "Thanks, Crowley."

"No problem," he bowed, "What else are besties for?"

"Still not besties," Dean shuddered, pulling me to his chest, "Lena, what are you doing? Trust me. Demon deals are never worth it. We know you're hurting. We've lost plenty of friends to the job over the years. But we're not losing you to a demon. Definitely not the King of Hell, himself."

"Hey!" the man squeaked, "I take offense to that."

"What?" my heart stopped, "You guys have the King of Hell in your back pocket?"

"And on speed dial."

"Not the time, Crowley," Sam snarled at him.

I started bawling in Dean's shoulder. I wasn't sure if it was losing Mel or the incident in the bathroom or being back in Hartford or the gravity of my current situation finally crushing me, but I completely fell apart. As I crumbled in my brother's arms, the cuts on my wrist started getting itchy again. I thought Cas had healed them. Maybe it was a phantom thing.

"Come on, kiddo," Dean picked my head up, wiping my eyes with the sleeve of his jacket, "Let's get you home."

"Ok," I sobbed, "Do you guys think we could stop by the bar before we leave town, though? The boys are doing a thing for Mel tonight and I can't miss that."

"That's fine," Sam allowed, taking me from his brother, "You look like you could use a drink anyway."

"And Crowley," Dean glanced over his shoulder, "If she tries making a deal again..."

"I know, I know," he rolled his eyes, "Give you a call. And if I take Lena's soul, you'll find me and kill me and blah, blah, blah, fine print."

"Thank you for showing some restraint."

I got in the back of the Impala with Cas and rested my head on his shoulder all the way to the bar. In all honesty, I did want to just go back to the motel and clock out, but a good, strong drink sounded like an excellent idea. The bartender slid my usual to me like I never left town and gave me a little nod.

"So," I finished my first one, "You guys know the King of Hell?"

"It's a long story," Dean ordered my next, "A very long, very complicated story."

"Something tells me I won't find it in the Supernatural books," I joked.

"You've read the Supernatural books?" Sam's eyes filled with horror.

"Yeah," I nodded, "And Cas, I got to the fourth one. Now, I see why you like that one so much."

"I must admit," Cas blushed, "I'm a little biased."

"Gripped tight and raised from perdition, huh?" I smirked at Dean.

"If I wouldn't get a one way ticket back to Hell," Dean grumbled, "I'd kill Carver Edlund for ever writing the Supernatural books."

"Hey, Lena," Brenden pulled me down from my barstool.

"Hey," Sam stepped in with Dean perking up for back up, "What's going on here?"

"It's cool," I settled them, "Guys, this is Brenden. Brenden, this is Sam and Dean. They're my brothers."

"Brenden from the phone?" Dean asked.

"Yeah."

"Oh," they both put their tails between their legs, "We're sorry, man."

"No worries," Brenden brushed them off, "The boys and I were about to jam. Care to join us for old time's sake?"

"You know what?" I slammed my second drink, "That sounds like a hell of an idea."

"That's my girl," he threw his arm around me, "I'll have her back, guys. I promise."

I got up onstage and felt like I had truly come home. This was where I needed to be at this point in time. And there was nowhere else I wanted to be. I looked over my shoulder at Luke, then a glance to Brenden and one to Mark, "You ready, boys?"

"Damn right, we are," Mark shot me a wink.

"This one's for you, Mel."

 **A/N: This was going to get a lot darker, but I figured this was depressing enough. And next week, we're going to be dealing with more of the fall out from this, but because it's getting hella late, we're going to end this here. But look on the bright side, we had a lot of Lena and Cas in this story. And with a dash of Crowley! How can we be mad at that? So, as always, I'll see you next chapter! xx**


	9. A Special Visitor

After I kissed the babies and their daddy goodbye, the boys and I headed back to the bunker. The trip to Hartford was one I'd like to forget for a while. I wanted to stay in my delusion where everything was ok and Mel was still alive to see her babies. I hope to God that Brenden was going to be ok. The boys could manage him, I'm sure. And he had my number. All Brenden would have to do is say jump.

A few days had gone by and everything seemed quiet. I had even gotten my head straight. It's amazing what I can get done when I have some down time. I finally got around to decorating. My room in the bunker finally felt like home. It was mine. An oddly pastel paradise that I always wanted. Right down to the canopy over my bed. It's not like the boys came in here anyway. They knew better.

"Lena," Dean knocked on my door, "Meet us in the war room."

"Ok," I got out of my bed, putting my tablet down. I had just started book five of the Supernatural series, too. Oh, well. I headed out to the main room of the bunker where Sam and Dean had started packing their duffles, "What's going on."

"We got a job," Sam told me, "Akron, Ohio."

"Sounds like fun," I chirped, "When are we leaving for this thrilling adventure?"

"Now," Dean threw me a bag, "Let's go."

"You guys think I could sit this one out?" I asked, "I'm still pretty drained from the other day."

"And leave you alone?" Sam gave me a look.

"After what happened in Hartford?" Dean put his foot down, "Not going to happen. You're staying where we can keep an eye on you."

"Come on," I whined, "I had one minor slip. Besides, Cas healed them. There won't even be a scar."

"What?" Both Sam and Dean froze with heartache in their eyes. Each look of pity was different. Sam was one of someone who lost a friend like that. Dean, though? Dean...I've seen that look before. However, it was me looking in a mirror.

I didn't even make eye contact with them. That wasn't supposed to slip out, "Oops."

"Yeah," Dean wrapped his arm around me, "Round the clock. We're not letting you out of our sight."

And so began the long, uncomfortably quiet drive to Ohio. Dammit, Lena. You should've known they were talking about the whole demon thing. Why did my brain have to go to...that? Guilty conscience, maybe? That very well could be. I've always been an open book around people I loved and held dear. I'm sure Sam and Dean were in that category.

When we got to our headquarters for the time being, I threw my bag on the bed, then myself shortly after. I wasn't sure if it was the truck stop lunch killing my system or general stress, but I ended up with some of the worst pain in my stomach. And it was enough to make me double over.

"Hey," Dean looked over his shoulder, "You ok, Lena?"

"Stomach hurts," I brushed him off, "I'm fine."

"Oh," he sat on my bed with me, "You want something for it?"

"No," I shook my head, "It'll go away, I'm sure."

But because the universe never wanted to work in Lena's favor, it only got worse. Damn near putting tears in my eyes worse. Dean picked me up and pulled me into his lap, "Lena? You sure you're..."

"I'm fine!" I snapped, shaking him off me.

"Ok," he put me back down.

"So," I bit my tongue, riding another wave out, "What's the reports say, Sam?"

"Ok," Sam had the same worry his brother did, but he knew better than to poke at hit. We all saw what happened when Dean did that, "A girl went missing three days ago. Her friends saw her at a nightclub downtown and no one's heard from her since."

"And how is that our thing?" I wondered.

"According to some of our local sources," Sam went on, "There's a new nest in town."

"A nest?" I thought it over, "Vampires?"

"Looks like it," Dean got up.

"A regular barrel of monkeys," I grumbled, "That's fantastic."

"Quick, Lena," Dean quizzed me, "Which one do you use to gank a vamp? Silver bullet or stake to the heart?"

"Trick question," I pushed myself off the bed, "Machete to the neck. Cut the head off."

"That's my girl," he praised, "We've raised you well, grasshopper."

"Sweet Jesus!" I doubled over, hardly able to stand.

"Are you sure you're ok?" Sam freaked a little.

"Hold on," I stopped him, "What's today?"

"Thursday?"

"Date, dumbass."

"The second," Sam glared while I did the math in my head. Of course. And when we have to fight bloodsucking monsters. That's just wonderful. Someone up there really does have it out for me up there, don't they?

"Sorry, boys," I winced, "I'm staying here. You find the girl without me."

"Come on, Lena," Dean tried to help me back up, "We had this talk. We're not leaving you alone."

"Trust me," I assured, squeezing the hell out of his hand like a stress dummy, "I'd be more of a liability than an asset right now."

"Why?"

"Remember when we were in Vegas?" If looks could kill, Dean's brains would've repainted our motel room, "And you thought your appendix was going to burst?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "I thought we weren't ever going to talk about that again."

"Just trust me," I snarled, "And don't worry. Cas has my knife. I'll be fine by myself."

"Alright," Dean let it go, "You can stay here."

"Thank you," I collapsed on my bed, "Be careful. Both of you. I want my boys back in one piece."

"If it's only a vamp nest," Sam assured, "This shouldn't be long."

"Don't hurt yourself while we're gone," Dean kissed the top of my head, "You need anything, call us."

"I will," I smiled, "Go on. Save people. Hunt things."

"We need to do a mass purge of the internet," Dean turned to his brother, "Destroy every single copy of the Supernatural books. We are not letting our lives have catch phrases."

"Good luck with that," I grabbed an armful of pillow and clocked out. This trip took a lot out of me and it hardly started. Then again, after the mental torture that going back to Hartford was, I'm sure I still needed a day or two. And some painkillers. I'm sure I threw that Midol from Vegas in my bag. I took two of those and a nap shortly after.

Sleep. A prolonged amount of sleep would be nice. Something to stop the aches in my body. It's times like these where I wished I still had my pot guy on speed dial. But I'm sure he wouldn't make the trip from South Dakota to Ohio. Not to mention, I think he got caught in Sioux Falls a few months back.

I wonder what the herb garden in the bunker looked like. I'm sure there was something in there that would make me trip the lights fantastic. In one of the botany books, there was something about this African dream root that lets whoever inception someone else's dreams. I bet that'd be a grand old time. Like lucid dreaming only a little more heightened.

Ring, ring.

Son of a bitch...I'm sure if I didn't answer the phone, the boys would be breaking down the door. Might as well. I rolled over and took my phone off the nightstand, not even opening my eyes, "Hello?"

"Is this Special Agent Hynde?"

"Yes," I went full FBI mode.

"This is Officer Michael Huff," he introduced himself, "Akron PD."

"How can I help you, Officer Huff?" I rubbed my eyes. Dammit, boys. What did you get yourselves into?

"I'm calling to ask about two of your guys," Officer Huff explained, "I have Agent Simmons and Agent Frehley here."

"Yeah," I nodded, "Those are my boys. I sent them myself. Tell me they didn't do something stupid like storm the station."

"No," he chuckled a bit, "They're fine. Just checking in."

"They're mine," I assured.

"Thank you for your time, Agent."

Click.

Well. I'm up. And I didn't hurt anymore. Might as well take a walk. Besides, I could use a smoke and a drink anyway. That was the plus side about how the boys picked their motels. We were never too far from a liquor source. If we didn't have any in the room, we had some within walking distance.

This crappy, hole in the wall reminded me a lot of the one in Hartford. What can I say? I got swept up in the nostalgia factor. It's like these kinds of places find me. Or I'm so desperately clinging to home. Not sure which one yet, but I was in no mood to overly psychoanalyze myself.

"What are you drinking, sweetheart?" the bartender asked me, glancing me over.

"Jack and Coke," I ordered.

"On my tab," a man called over, sitting next to me.

"You got an ID?" the bartender gave me a very skeptical look.

"Is this good enough for you?" I grumbled, flipping my FBI badge at him.

"FBI badge will do," he shook a bit, giving me my drink.

"Hey, Lena," the man smiled at me. Wait a minute...I knew this guy.

"Chuck?" I guessed, taking a complete shot in the dark.

"Hey!" he squeaked, "You remembered me!"

"Yeah," I nodded, "Small world."

"You got a job at the bureau?" Chuck asked, looking at my badge.

"Sort of," I cringed, "Special ops."

"You know," he nursed his drink, "I always wondered what happened to you after the fire."

"I took some advice," I downed mine, "I went to the bar."

"And?"

"And..." I ordered another drink, "I met these guys."

"Not surprised," Chuck jabbed, "You're young and cute."

"But it's a lot more than that," I elaborated, "They're practically my brothers now."

"Remember when we first met?" he took my hand, "You would hardly talk to me. Why the sudden change of heart?"

"If those two got my back," I figured, "I'm sure they're not the only ones. I recently got a not so friendly reminder of the value of a human life. A friend of mine died after bringing a couple more lives into the world."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Chuck empathized.

"Thank you," I got that phantom itch on my wrist again, "But there was something else..."

"What?"

"Well," I stared into my whiskey, "Let's just say that grief makes smart people, good people, do some really stupid things."

"I hear you there," Chuck raised his glass to me, "You think I could offer a little friendly advice for you?"

"I listened the last time," I scoffed, "Might as well. Hit me."

"Those brothers of yours?" he began.

"Yeah. What about them?"

"It sounds like they love you quite a bit," Chuck pointed out, "You shouldn't take that away from them. You know they're there for you. Let them be there for you. Don't keep those two at arms length. They do love you, Lena. And you're better than that. Whatever that stupid thing that a smart, good person did out of grief? Two wrongs don't make it right."

"I know," I laid my head on the bar. Weird. It didn't hurt anymore. Nothing did. I didn't expect the Midol to work that well, "I don't need the lecture, Chuck. The only person that could give me that lecture and it actually stick is gone. The only two people...I'm tired of the ones I love dying, Chuck."

"You've gone through more than what one little girl should have to," he wrapped his arms around me, "And I truly am, from the bottom of my heart, sorry about that. But look on the bright side, Lena. You're still here. After all the hell you've been through, you're still standing. Maybe it's out of habit. Maybe it's out of spite. But you're still here."

Oddly enough, that felt like the weirdest hug I've ever gotten. Like it shook me to my soul. I laid my head on my enigma of a social worker's chest, "Thanks, Chuck. I needed that today."

"No problem," he kissed the top of my head, "Now, if it's all the same to you, I have a thing."

"No," I let him go, "That's fine. Go ahead."

"Be careful out there, Lena," Chuck begged, "If you need me, I'll be right here. Sitting at the bar."

Chuck was a weird guy. But I liked him. He might have been a weirdo, but he had a point. After Mel's death, adding my own on top of that and by my own hand of all things, it'd just make things worse. No one deserved to go through that. If I were to die, I knew a lot of people that would be sad. A lot of people that would openly weep on my grave. And I couldn't do that. Not to them.

"Lena?" a familiar voice rumbled.

"Hey," another chimed. They both sat on either side of me.

"What are you doing here?" Dean ordered for both him and Sam.

"Having a drink," I finished my last one, getting a refill, "Care to join me, gentlemen?"

"Always," Dean agreed, "You seem to be in higher spirits."

"So do you," I pointed out.

"Making a little headway," Sam reported, "We found the girl. All we have to do is find the nest and we can get out of town."

"Awesome!" I chirped, but then, I came down, "What state did you find her in?"

"Ohio," Dean laughed at his own dumb joke while Sam and I just rolled our eyes at him, "She's alive. Turned, but alive."

"You guys didn't take her out?"

"We have a cure," Sam went on, "She's going to make a full recovery."

"Good," I sighed out.

"What about you?" Dean looked me over, "You doing better?"

"Yeah." After that talk I had with Chuck, I couldn't be better. I had my boys intact, a glass of whiskey, and my sanity. What more could I ask for?

 **A/N: Hi, guys! That's right. We had a visit from the world's greatest social worker. Even has it on a coffee mug. And look! I'm posting at a human time of day! Good for me. Maybe I can even get the update for tomorrow done, too! That'd be cool. I could take the weekend off. If you have any requests for things you need to see in your life in this fic, go ahead. Tell me. Talk to me. I'm not getting my reviews right now, but that's what my inbox is for. We can book club this shit out. See you next chapter! xx**

 **(P.S. Yesterday (at the time I'm posting this), we had a couple of birthdays in the Supernatural family. So, happy birthday, Jensen…And Isabella Rose. :3)**


	10. What a Wonderful World

**A/N: Just a slight heads up, guys. This is a super, super heavy chapter. And you have Havarti2 to thank for that. You have every and all right to call her an asshole. She'll accept the title.**

"Hey, cutie," I had a dirty grin on my face as I stood in front of one of the vamps. His head snapped toward the sound of my voice while I twirled my machete around, "Looking for me? Some warm, fresh blood?"

The vampire lunged after me. I just had to tell Sam and Dean I felt better. Then again, the rush was getting to me. My god, this was better than sex. I had half a dozen vampires on me in every direction. One swing of my machete after another. Another swing, another head on the floor. And I was getting off on the adrenaline rush. The boys had their own to deal with. I had this. As soon as the last one dropped, I lit up a cigarette. Necessary, I think.

"Lena?" Sam called out, "Are you ok?"

"Super," I blew out a cloud of smoke, taking advantage of the little downtime.

"Hey," Dean came over, assessing the body count, "Jesus, Lena...You did all this?"

"Yep," I let out a slight moan, "Damn, that felt good!"

"Uh, Lena...?" Dean worried, "Are you ok?"

"What's with you two?" I squeaked, "I'm fine! I feel great! We just cleared out a nest. No one else is going to get hurt. Let's call it a win."

The three of us got back in the Impala and headed to the hotel. I crawled in bed with Dean and clocked out. After a hard day's work, we deserved it. A good night's sleep and we could get back to the bunker. Sure, our situation wasn't exactly ideal, but I guess we had to make do with what we got.

"Lena! Wake up! Time for school!"

Slowly, I opened my eyes and...What the hell? This wasn't the motel. And it wasn't my room in the bunker. Everything was pastels and silk and lace. It's beautiful, but it felt off. Soft, comforting, and somehow a little familiar, but off. I...I liked it. Where the hell was I, though? I feel like I've been here before. Maybe if I look around.

I wasn't alone in the house. And they know who I am. Bringing some sort of protection probably wouldn't be a half bad idea. I scoured the room for anything I could use to defend myself, but all I had was a pen. It is supposed to be mightier than the sword. I guess with a swift stab to the jugular.

I treaded lightly down the stairs and into the kitchen. A man sat at the table and a woman stood at the coffee pot. They looked familiar, too, but I couldn't place them. I don't know what kind of screwed up world I was in, but I needed answers and I needed them now. I'm sure these two knew something. Whether or not they were going to tell me was another story, but it's worth a shot.

"Who are you?" I stood in the doorway.

"Lena," the woman put her hand on my forehead, making me flinch under her touch, "Do you feel ok, honey?"

"I'll ask again," I moved away from her, "Who are you?"

"How's she feel, Gwen?" the man at the table asked.

"A bit feverish," she told him.

"Who the hell are you?" I snapped, sick of being jerked around.

"No need for that kind of language, young lady," the woman scolded, "Now, get to school, Lena. You're going to be late."

"I don't go to school," I pointed out, "Sam and Dean told them I died in the orphanage fire."

"How could you die in an orphanage fire?" the man chuckled to himself, "You're not an orphan, Lena."

"Um, yeah, I am," I gave him a look, "My parents died when I was six months old."

"Oh, honey," she shared his sentiment, "If you were an orphan, how do you explain your father and I being here?"

In that moment, my heart stopped. There was no way. I looked the woman over closely, studying her every single feature. Her eyes...They were just like mine. And the freckles on the bridge of her nose. I had them, too. But...That's impossible, "Mom...?"

"There you are, Lena," her face lit up, "You had me worried for a minute."

"It's," I put my hand to her cheek, "It's really you."

"Of course, it's..." I threw myself into my mother's loving embrace, "Lena, are you feeling ok? You're awfully affectionate."

"Dad...?" I glanced over at the man at the table.

"What is it, princess?" I buried my face in his chest, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I choked back tears, "Everything's perfect. I can't be happy to see my own parents?"

"I guess so," my dad kissed the top of my head, "Go to school, Lena. Don't want you to be late."

"Ok," i shook this off and started toward school. This is weird, right? Like...Dingo ate my baby, crazy? Was I descending into madness or was this actually happening? This looked like Hartford. Nothing was out of place. The same cute, small town it's always been. But my parents are alive? Call me nuts, but I'm pretty sure the house burned down and they're dead. Although...Maybe this isn't a gift horse I should look in the mouth.

I made it to school barely on time and sat down in my first class of the day. History. Ok. I'm good with history. Just fact regurgitation. I could do that. American Revolution by the looks fo things. Something that's been force fed to me since third grade. I'm sure I got this. More importantly, I needed to get to a computer and do some research. I don't know what the hell is going on, but I needed to figure it out yesterday.

"We're going to the cemetery tonight," someone behind me said, "Rumor has it that its old groundskeeper still haunts the place."

"Why?" one of the girls whined, "That's how people end up getting hurt."

"Come on, babe," he insisted, "I'm sure it's not that bad. We'll be fine. I'll keep you safe."

I doubt he knew anything about it. Salting and burning the remains, if I remember correctly, "Do you know how many people have gotten hurt there? Or if they're still around?"

"Relax, Lena," he settled me, "It's just a ghost story. It's not like it's real. Unless you believe in that sort of thing."

I didn't want to believe, but I also knew better. It's like Dean said, though. We do what we do and we shut up about it, "I guess you're right."

I went through the rest of my day and finally got to a computer toward the end. Study hall was a gift. Let's see. Do I search something stupid like my symptoms or do I dig into the big book of monsters? Come on, Lena. This is ridiculous. You know monsters don't exist. You're just having an off day. It's happens to the best of them. They got through it and so will you. I grabbed my backpack and headed for the mini mall parking lot. All I needed was to clear my head. And who better than the family to help me with that?

As I walked down Main Street, all kinds of memories flooded my head. That time I fell off my bike in front of, ironically enough, the bike shop. Mom, Dad, and I going to the diner on a weekly basis. The Fourth of July parade when I got my first bee sting and Dad freaked because he thought I might be allergic. Something about the bar, though. That felt familiar. Like...Gut wrenchingly familiar. What made it even worse was a woman walking out with her double stroller and her paycheck.

"Mel!" I called for her, hugging her tight.

"Uh," she looked at me weird, "Hi. I'm sorry, sweetie. Do I know you?"

"It's me," I told her, "It's Lena. We're best friends. I'm godmother to your babies."

"I'm pretty sure we've never met," Mel assured, "You must have me mixed up with someone else, honey. I'm sorry."

I couldn't mix Mel up with anyone. She had a very distinct personality. Her voice was soft, yet commanding. Her presence felt like a mom that everyone deserved. I couldn't mistake Mel for anyone else. That was next to impossible. Was that not Mel...? And if she didn't know me, did the guys not know me either? I needed a drink and a cigarette, but I didn't have my ID on me.

Just go home, Lena. Clearly, you're having szome sort of mental episode. Go home. Lay down. Opt out of doing your homework like you would any other day. Get your head right. WHen I walked through the front door, assorted voices murmured in the kitchen, "Mom! Dad! I'm home!"

That still felt foregin on my tongue. I threw my backpack on the stairs and walked into the kitchen. If today wasn't screwing with my head enough, nothing could've prepared me for what I had seen. My heart sunk through the floor and I'm sure it was halfway to China by now.

"Hey, pumpkin."

I would've taken this morning a million times over. Hell, I would've taken seeing Mel with the twins on a loop for the rest of eternity. And that wouldn't have hurt as bad. In my parents' kitchen stood a crotchety old drunk that I never thought I'd ever see again. And I bawled into his shoulder. There was no holding those tears back.

"Lena," Uncle Bobby cradled me, "What's the matter, baby? What's got you so upset?"

"I missed you," I wept, drenching his sleeve.

"I'm twenty minutes down the road," he pointed out, "You know that. And my door is always open to you."

"I'm sorry," I went to wipe my tears, but Uncle Bobby beat me to it, "It's been a really off day."

"How long has she been like this, Zach?" he wondered.

"Since this morning," Dad reported, "Gwen said she was running a little bit of a fever. I don't know what would be wrong with her."

This whole day had been seeing the ghosts of my past. There was no way this was happening. Then, it hit me. I remembered seeing something in my late nights of researching in the bunker about this creature that could make any wish come true. But in reality, it sucks out its victim's life force. It only keeps the victim in a dreamlike state, giving the illusion that the wish was granted. And if anyone was going to know anything about what was happening, I was lucky enough to have the world's greatest uncle be a damn good hunter.

"Uncle Bobby," I kept my voice down.

"What, sweetheart?" he asked, keeping me in his arms.

"This might sound weird coming from me," I explained, "But how do you fight a djinn?"

"A djinn?" Uncle Bobby's eyes nearly came out of his head, "Come on. Let's take a walk."

"Ok," I followed him out the door, "We'll be right back!"

Once the two of us were a ways down the road, Uncle Bobby finally broke the silence, "Lena, how do you know what a djinn is? Or that I'd know anything about it?"

"You're a hunter, Uncle Bobby," I broke the news, "I know Sam and Dean. Your Sam and Dean. Mom, Dad, you...You're all dead. And I need to get back to wherever I am."

"Why would you want to leave us, pumpkin?" he held my hand, "You got all your family right here. You got me. You got your parents. What more could you want?"

"Please," I choked back another wave of tears, "Don't make this any harder. I don't want to leave you, but I know damn well this isn't right. Somewhere, I'm sure there's a djinn feeding off me and I don't want to die like this."

"What? Perfectly happy?" Uncle Bobby scolded, "Don't leave us, Lena. Do you know how much that would break your mom's heart? Or your dad's? Or, hell, mine? You're the closest thing I ever had to a daughter, Lena. Don't take that away from me."

"I'm sorry," I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"This is all real," he assured, "You're having a little trouble realizing that. This is happening. Now, come on. Let's go home. I'm sure your mom's got dinner done by now. She made the most amazing chicken pot pie I've ever had the honor and privilege of tasting."

"Ok," I'm sure he was right. I'm just overthinking and slowly losing my mind. They wouldn't let me get that bad, though. At least I hope not.

We got back to the house and sat at the kitchen table. Uncle Bobby wasn't kidding. This looked magazine quality. And I'm sure it tasted better than I could even imagine. If this was some sort of fantasy concocted by my subconscious and extracted and used by a djinn, I couldn't conjure up what Mom's cooking tasted like. I've never had it. This feeling...This warm, comforting feeling...I never wanted this to go away. And I never wanted to leave.

Knock, knock.

"I got it," Dad got up from the table and answered the door, "Hi. Can I help you?"

"Hi," a familiar voice grumbled, "Is Lena here?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "Come on in."

"Thanks." As happy as I was to see him, I was afraid that's who it was at the door, "Lena!"

"Dean?" I freaked a little, "What are you doing here?"

"Dean?" Uncle Bobby looked over at me, "You weren't kidding when you said you knew them, were you?"

"Bobby...?" Dean got caught up in the moment a little, "Lena, we have to go. Now. You know that none of this is real, right?"

"I know," I started getting emotional again, "Just let me stay a little while longer."

"I can't do that, kiddo," he apologized, "And you know it. We have to go now."

"Dean, please," a few tears escaped my eyes, "I've never had dinner with the family like this. Just a little while longer."

"Ok," Dean let it go. He let me have this moment and sat next to me, "By the way, in case you're curious, African dream root's a hell of a thing to have in the spice cabinet."

"I kind of figured," I rested my head on his shoulder.

"So, Dean," Dad asked, "How do you know Lena?"

"I'm her brother," Dean didn't even hesitate.

"That's weird," Mom shrugged, "I don't remember giving birth to you. Zach, you whoring around?"

"Not that I remember," Dad thought it over.

"Not that kind of brother," Dean shot me a wink, "I know you don't want to, Lena, but you have to snap out of this. I want you to wake up for me, ok?"

"Ok," I nodded, hugging Uncle Bobby tight, "I love you."

"I love you, too, pumpkin," he kissed the top of my head, "I understand. You have to go."

"I don't want to," I sobbed, "You know that, right?"

"Go kick that djinn's ass," Uncle Bobby smiled, "And Dean?"

"Yeah?" Dean popped up.

"Take care of her?" he begged, "For me?"

"I promise," Dean swore, "Nothing's bad is going to happen to her that hasn't happened already, Bobby. I got her."

"Thank you, son..."

When I woke up, I thought I was going to throw up. My head was killing me and I was dizzy as hell. But at least I was alive. Tired, but alive. With a dead djinn at my feet. Once I blinked the spots out of my eyes, I saw the figure of my other favorite brother coming toward me, "Sam?"

"Hey," Sam cradled my cheek in his palm, "You feeling ok?"

"Where's Dean?" I worried, not seeing him anywhere.

"Right here, Lena," Dean came out from the shadows and helped me down, "Come on. You ready to go home?"

"How did I get here?" I wondered.

"You said you were going out for a smoke," he told, scooping me up in his arms, "You took longer than what we liked, so we came looking for you. And here you are. Son of a bitch must have jumped you."

"Let's go home," I laid my head on Dean's chest.

"Hey, Lena," Sam wondered, "Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"What did the djinn show you?"

"Don't worry about it," Dean answered for me, "Let's just worry about getting her back to the bunker."

 **A/N: Dean is the best big brother ever. Not going to lie, I got a little emotional with this one. And I'm sorry this chapter is up super late. It's been a long day. I'd like to stick around and chat, but I got other things to do tonight. I'm lucky I got this far. See you next chapter! xx**


	11. Worst Religious Experience Ever

Damn...My head hurts like a son of a bitch. I guess that djinn took more out of me than I thought it did. When I woke up, I did a quick check of the surroundings. Looked like the back of the Impala and the early, early sunrise. Although, I don't remember there being a blanket back here. Soft, gray. It smelled like newsprint and gunpowder with a hint of lighter fluid. Just like the trunk.

"Morning," I rubbed my eyes.

"Well," Dean hummed, "Good morning, Lena."

"Hey," Sam chimed, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm still a little fuzzy," I reported, "And I probably couldn't pass a field sobriety test, but I'll live. Where are we?"

"Just a little bit past Chicago," Dean sang, "We should be back home in about, roughly, ten hours."

"Why don't you go back to sleep, Lena?" Sam suggested, "You've never tangled with a djinn before and you're still probably a little scatterbrained."

"I wish we could've better prepared you for something like that," Dean mumbled at the steering wheel.

"Hey," I snaked my hand around the driver's seat, "I got you guys, don't I? My knights in shining armor?"

"Of course you do," he confirmed, "Always. But what if we can't get to you in time? When I was in your melon, Lena, you didn't look like you were in much of a hurry to get out of there."

"Could you blame me?" I growled, "And if you can't get to me in time, you boys better hurry your asses up then. Wake me when we stop for gas."

I curled back up in the backseat before Dean could spiral into a fit of self-loathing and went back to sleep. I don't know what it was about this backseat, but I slept better here than I did in our crappy motels or in the bunker. This felt so comfortable. Between the engine rumbling and the low hum of the radio playing some of the best music ever made, it was really nice to zone out to.

The only thing that would make this any better is if Dean let me smoke in the car. But house rules. Driver picks the music and no smoking in the Impala. I could understand that one, though. This car was older than the three of us and kept in pristine condition. Who am I to ruin that?

"Lena," Sam gave me a nudge a little while later, "Wake up."

"What is it?" I grumbled, still half asleep.

"We're stopping for gas," he told me, "You said to wake you when we stopped for gas."

"Where are we?" I sat up, squinting at the newly found sunlight.

"Des Moines, Iowa," he helped me out of the car. My god, I felt like a newborn giraffe. Probably looked like one, too, "You ok?"

"I'm fine," I regained my footing, "I'll be right back."

"Alright," Sam sent me inside and I needed something to drink like yesterday. It's early in the morning yet. Coffee sounded like a good idea, but I wasn't in the mood. I caught Dean coming out of the bathroom out of the corner of my eye.

"Morning, sunshine," he threw his arm around me. We've done this song and dance routine before. Dean played the protective big brother when there were a few bigger guys in my near proximity. Especially when they looked like the guys that were undressing me with their eyes over the other aisle.

"Morning," I nuzzled my head in his ribs, reaching in the cooler for a bottle of apple juice. That sounded like a good idea.

"Apple juice?" Dean gave me a look, "What are you, five?"

"Fight me," I teased him, giving him the bottle, "I'm out, too, if you wouldn't mind."

"You know how I feel about that, Lena..."

"And you know how bitchy I get without them," I pointed out, "Marlboro lights. Please?"

"We all have our vices, I guess," Dean still wasn't completely on board with it, but if he judged me for my smoking habit, that'd make him a hypocrite.

"Thank you, sweetie," I stood on my toes, kissing his cheek, "This is why you're my favorite."

"I'm your favorite?" he gave me a look.

"You're one of my favorites," I clarified, "And if it makes you feel any better, Cas hates buying my smokes for me, too."

"You get Cas to buy your cigarettes?" Dean was ready to beat me.

"It was only twice," I squeaked, "Once when I had to take him to the grocery store to help him with the pie he made for you on your birthday. Once when we were in Hartford and I was chainsmoking like a son of a bitch. But I didn't smoke that whole pack myself. I'm a generous soul like that."

"Are you completely out?" he asked as we started walking toward the register.

"Yeah," I nodded, "Please don't say that now's a good time to quit because I'm in no mood."

"It is, though."

"Dean," I scolded, "You were in my head. You know what I just went through. Let me have my vices."

"Alright," Dean let me go, "I'll be out in a sec."

"Ok," I left him to pay and went to find Sam.

But sure enough, because I couldn't be left alone, one of the guys from inside came up to me, "Hi."

"Hi," I kept walking.

"How you doing, sweetheart?" he put his hand to my shoulder.

"Fine," I brushed him off.

"So," the guy stopped me altogether, "What are you headed?"

"South Dakota," I lied to him. What the hell's your problem, dude?

"What a coinsidence," he sang, "Me, too! We should ride together."

"I got a ride there," I could not shake this guy, "Sam!"

"Hey," Sam came to my rescue. Bless him, "You ready to go?"

"Yeah," I nodded, shooting a glance to the guy next to me, "Let's go."

"Hey, buddy," the guy tried getting between us, "Do you mind? I was talking to the girl."

"I noticed," Sam pulled me to his hip, "Now, if you'll excuse us, my little sister and I have to get back home. And our brother's coming out right now."

"Hey, Sammy," Dean joined us, "Something wrong here?"

"We were just about to leave, weren't we?" Sam figured.

"Yeah," Dean confirmed, "So, what's this guy got to do with anything?"

"I think he was trying to take advantage of a young girl walking by herself," Sam filled him in, "And doesn't know how to take a hint."

"You know," Dean thought out loud, giving me my cigarettes and my apple juice, "If fifteen will get you twenty, I wonder what fourteen would get someone."

"Look, guys," the guy started backing off, "I had no idea she was fourteen."

"Could you come with us for a sec?" Dean asked so nicely.

"I should actually be going..."

"It'll only take a minute," Sam assured.

"You can come with us," Dean had a glint in his eye, "Lena, get in the car."

"Ok," I had a feeling I knew what was about to go down. Swift and well-deserved justice. I lit my first cigarette of the morning and listened to the sweet symphonies coming from behind the gas station. I didn't want to watch. The whole act felt barbaric. However, barbaric actions called for barbaric punishment. And I wasn't going to stop them. When the boys came back and blood gushed from the guy's lip, I stomped my cigarette out.

"You alright, Lena?" Sam asked, his knuckles already bruising.

"I'm fine," I sighed out, "You guys didn't get too banged up, did you?"

"Not too bad," Dean promised, checking himself over, "But in all seriousness, are you doing ok?"

"I've been better," I shrugged, "But I'll be fine."

"Come here," Dean pulled me into the warmest, tightest hug he's ever given me and I couldn't help but surrender to it, "You will be fine. I promise you that."

"Thanks, Dean," I wiggled out of his arms, "If you boys don't mind, I'm going to clock back out again."

"Go ahead," Sam allowed, "Who are we to stop you?"

I got back in the backseat of the car and wrapped back up in the blanket. Something changed with Dean when he was in my noodle, didn't it? It was the first time he ever saw me completely unfiltered. I'm usually not that honest with people. Hell, I'm not even that honest with myself. That djinn really did a number. It must have burrowed deep in my innermost thoughts and desires and projected them in my mind. And because someone had to come in and save my ass, he got to see that.

Am I saying it changed everything? No. Absolutely not. Did it change something and Dean's not telling me? Big time. Maybe another good, long nap on the way home would situate everything. I'll let my cigarette buzz take me under and let the dust settle and everything would be perfectly ok.

"She had a life before us, Sam," Dean grumbled a little while later, "She had a family before us. What have we done? That djinn could've killed her."

"But it didn't," Sam pointed out, "I'm sure we've done more for her than what we think. We're not in Lena's head."

"But I've been in Lena's head," Dean reminded him, "Do you want to know what I saw?"

These two must think I'm still sleeping.

"What did you see?" Sam approached with caution.

"I..." Dean's voice cut off, "I broke up dinner with her parents. It was her mom and her dad and Bobby was there, too."

"Our Bobby?" Sam wondered.

"Yeah," Dean went on, "But not quite our Bobby. That was Lena's Bobby. That was the man she knew that wanted to keep her safe and out of the hunter's life and called her pumpkin. It was weird, man. You know how the djinn shows you your greatest desires?"

"Yeah."

"That's all she wants," he sighed. Well...He's not wrong, "I love Lena to death. You know that. And she's been doing some serious ass kicking since she's been with us. I hate to get all touchy feely here, but I think she's just a little girl that wants her mom and dad to come back."

"Tell me you wouldn't do the same thing," Sam threw it in his face, "If you had the opportunity to be back with Mom and Dad, tell me you'd throw that away."

"I could," Dean cut him off, "All it'd take is a little crossroads deal, but we've moved on from that."

"Once was enough for you?"

"Saved your sorry ass, didn't it?"

Wait! Hold the phone! What?

"I'm pretty sure the demons have given up on us," Sam chuckled a bit.

"Crowley might be a pain in the ass," Dean admitted, "But he's our pain in the ass."

That's right. These two have the KING OF HELL in their back pocket. It wouldn't surprise me if they did brunch on Sunday mornings. I'm sure he made a good ally, but at the end of the day, he's still THE KING OF HELL. He's quite literally the devil. I still had some mixed emotions about the company the boys kept, but I could live with it, I guess.

I started to zone out again and fell back asleep to the lullabies that Led Zeppelin had to offer me. I wasn't complaining. If it wouldn't have risen suspicion from the front seat, I would've started humming along. One does not simply sit and listen to the opening of Stairway without joining in. But Jimmy Page's riff took me under and I went back to sleep.

The next time I woke up, I was still. We weren't in the Impala anymore. This was the bunker, but this wasn't my room. The Zeppelin was replaced by Bob Segar. Still not complaining. Turn the Page gave me chills every time. However, I wouldn't feel those chills. I had a pair of warm, comforting arms around me. This was Dean's room. And Dean's bed. With Dean around me.

Honestly, after what had just happened, I wasn't surprised. For whatever reason, these boys wanted to keep me safe. And no one more than Dean. He knew the kind of walls I had up. His walls weren't exactly the same, but they were similar. I nuzzled my face in his chest and never wanted to leave. This may not have been Hartford, but I knew deep down, this was home.

The next few days went by quietly. Dean and I never spoke of our spooning in his bed. Although, I knew better that it wasn't intended to be sexual. That was him never wanting to let me go. That was him wanting to keep me safe. If anything, that was Dean watching my back. Strange, though. The monster radar was dead silent. Not saying I was getting the itch to go kill something, but it was just weird. It was nothing but target practice and washing the vehicles in the bunker. A phrase popped into my mind that I never expected to. Dare I say it...? I'm bored.

"Hey, Lena," Sam knocked on my bedroom door.

Every part of me said not to get up, but because I'm spiteful, I got up anyway, "What do you want, Sam?"

"Dean and I are going on a supply run," he said, "You coming?"

"No," I shook my head, "I think I'm just going to hang here, if that's alright."

"Are you sure?" Sam worried, "You're going to be ok by yourself?"

"Again," I rolled my eyes, "I've been pretty level headed for the past week. Cas still has my knife, just to be safe. I'm not going to hurt myself. I'll be fine."

"Ok," he let me go, "You want anything while we're out?"

"I think I'm good," I ran through my list in my head, "If you could do me a huge favor, though, and sneak a box of cinnamon and brown sugar Pop Tarts past Dean, I'd really appreciate it."

"I'll try," Sam promised.

"Lena!" Speak of the devil, "You coming with us?"

"No!" I yelled back.

"You know the rules, kiddo," Dean ran through them, "No boys. No parties."

"No friends in the area other than you two," I giggled, "I'll pray for you, Sam."

"If I couldn't handle Dean by now," Sam joked, "I'm pretty sure I'd be in a lot worse shape."

And just like that, my boys had gone off on their great, grand adventure. Which left me unattended in the bunker. What to do, what to do. I guess I could always wander around some more. I usually found some pretty neat things when I did that. Last time, I found what looked like a chem lab. And the time before that, I found the range in the basement. I still had yet to see their alleged dungeon. But something tells me I never wanted to see that.

Before I embarked on my own adventure, I thought I'd go outside and have a quick cigarette. However, when I went to find them, my pack, that I could've sworn had a couple left, was completely empty. Awesome. Just awesome. Although, if I remember correctly, the bunker kept a pretty well-stocked pantry. I'm sure the spice cabinet had a little something, something to hold me over until I can get Cas to buy me more. The boys were going to be gone for a while. I'm sure I could come down by the time the get back.

Let's see. The standard African dream root sounded like fun. But there was no one else here and no one was sleeping. Boring. What else can we find? Hmm…Salvia. According to the books, Saliva's been used by shamans. Leaves can be eaten or smoked. Used to achieve altered states of consciousness. That sounds like it could be fun. It says it's hallucinogenic. If my old pot guy could see this, he'd crap himself. His stuff was usually pretty potent. I remember in the good old days when Mel and I would smoke some of his stuff in her bathroom and come out perfectly content with the world.

What could I mix this salvia with? I kept going through the index under hallucinogens. Ooh. Jimsonweed sounded promising. Used in ceremonies of indigenous people. Ok. Causes hallucinations. Kind of what I'm here for. Intense spiritual visions. Ok. I guess I could do with that. Side effect is prolonged blurred vision. Alright then!

Under the entry for jimsonweed was a journal entry from some guy named Joseph Ellis from October of 1923 in bright red letters:

DO NOT TRY AGAIN.

Sorry, Mr. Ellis. Not my fault you can't handle your herbal soothing methods. I took a little bit from the salvia and a little bit of the jimsonweed, put it in a little bag and looked around for something to roll this in. It's been a while since I've done this. Once Mel got pregnant, we kind of had to stop our…activities. I had quit smoking pot before that anyway. I was a good girl when the boys met me! Minus the drinking and smoking thing, but that's beside the point.

I found a notebook in the drawer of the desk in my bedroom that would work nicely for rolling papers. I could do that. That'll work. I laid the salvia and the jimsonweed in it and rolled it nice and tight. A little sloppy on the rolling job, but not bad for MacGyvering it. With my makeshift joint in my pocket, I grabbed my lighter off the desk and headed outside to light it up.

Flavorwise, it wasn't exactly pleasant. But I wasn't looking for flavor. I was looking for effect. I wanted something that was going to make me feel good for a little while. I'm pretty sure the monsters were taking a break for the day. No one's going to need our saving for the rest of the afternoon. The boys had Vegas. I had my own ways of unwinding. And once it was finished, I went back inside and laid on my bed, waiting for it to kick in.

Any minute now...

Any second now...

An hour had passed and I didn't feel a thing. What the hell? I feel like I just got screwed over. Then again, I had no idea how long those were sitting in there. Maybe they lost their potency over the years. The last account of the jimsonweed being used was the twenties and the warning said never again.

This sucks. I didn't feel a thing. Might as well get up and find something else to...When I sat up in bed, everything changed. Everything started moving in slow motion. No matter how fast I moved my hand, it moved in slow motion. And I started seeing things in doubles, triples. And my body had slowed down tremendously. This was weird...

A warmth radiated in the center of my soul. I could see the curve of the Earth. I saw the world turn. And everything felt fantastic. I started to wander the bunker a little more and ended up in the main room. I needed to get the name of this. Wait a minute. I came up with this concoction!

What do I call it? I'd call up my old pot guy, but I think he got super religious and stopped with all this. I don't know why anyone would want to give up this feeling. This was amazing. I felt it in my toes. I think I'll call this...Frank. Yeah. It's definitely a Frank. I'm not sure why, but Frank was going to be my new best friend. Or maybe Ed. I feel like this could be an Ed, too.

Did someone turn the heat on in here? All of a sudden, it got really hot in here. I peeled off a layer of clothes and threw them on the empty chair next to me. I wonder what kind of weight capacity this table had. I could sit right in the middle of it and be perfectly ok. The smooth surface felt nice on bare skin. I bet this would be awesome to have sex on. I mean, I've never had sex before, but if I had to pick a place, this would definitely be it.

Almost! That would've meant Luke and me in the bed of his truck in the middle of absolute nowhere. I wonder what he's up to right now? Probably just getting off work. He's such a good dude. I wish I would've stuck around in Hartford. If I did, we'd probably get married one day. And I wouldn't have a problem with that. I mean, it'd be one of those things where if neither one of us were married by the time we were thirty situations, but I wouldn't mind.

"Lena!" Dean yelled at me.

"What?" I blinked a few times, only feeling it once, "When did you guys get back?"

"What happened to your clothes?" he held his hand over his eyes.

"What do you mean?" I wondered, "My jacket's on the chair."

"Uh, Lena," Sam kept his eyes closed and wrapped me in his shirt. It felt so warm and smelled like man and maple syrup. I liked it. He wasn't getting this back, "You're naked."

"I'm not naked," I giggled, "You're naked."

"Lena," Dean looked me over, "Are you feeling ok?"

"I feel awesome," I sprawled out on the table, "Have you ever slept on this table? It's incredible."

"Wonderful," he murmured to himself, "What are you on?"

"What do you mean?" I pulled him down to me, "I'm not on anything. I smoked earlier and now I feel wonderful. How is that different from any other time?"

"She's not..." Sam looked over at his brother.

"She is," Dean nodded, "She's stoned out of her mind."

"I am not," I started laughing hysterically, seeing a little sparkle out of the corner of my eye. What was that...?

"Lena," Dean brought me back, "Where did you get the herbs?"

"In the spice rack," I fell into his shoulders, seeing that damn sparkle again!

"Which one?" he worried.

"The one in the..." I thought long and hard, "Lab? Library? I don't know. Somewhere around here."

There it was again! That sparkle! I got up to chase after it, but I kind of ate the floor once I got off the table and Sam so graciously helped me back up, "Lena, it's important. We need to know."

"I think it was the lab," I stood up and got a better look at the little speck of glitter, "Hey! Look at the little sparkly lady! Why are you naked, sparkly lady?"

"Where do you see this?" Dean asked, looking around.

"Right there!" I pointed toward the hall, "I bet you're like Tinkerbell, little sparkly naked lady. And I'm going to get you!"

I sprinted toward the sparkly naked lady that was guiding me through the maze of halls in the bunker. I was going to get her! I bet she's a fairy and if I catch her, she'll grant my wishes or some crap like that! I could wish for my mom and dad to come back and everything would be good again! She led me into my room where another tiny, sparkly, naked lady popped up. Alright! Two fairies, two wishes!

All of a sudden, the sparkly naked ladies turned hostile and started slaughtering each other. Every slash led to a cloud of glitter going everywhere. And soon, the glitter turned to a deep, thick blood. I couldn't blink. I couldn't look away. Why? Why is the little, sparkly, naked lady so mean now? I thought fairies were supposed to be good and pure. What's happening?!

"Lena," Dean wrapped his arms around me, lowering me down to my bed, "You're having a really bad trip. Whatever you had shouldn't have been mixed and you're in the process of losing your mind."

"But Dean," I bawled, "The fairies...They're killing each other! Make them stop!"

"Shh..." he hushed, pulling my blanket over me, "I'm going to go get you something to help you come down. I'll be right back, ok? Don't go anywhere."

"Ok..." I closed my eyes tight, trying to get rid of the mental image that's just been burned into my brain. Bad trip. Really bad trip.

"Lena..." an ethereal voice spoke, "Lena..."

I opened my eyes again and a man stood in my room, "Chuck? What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to talk you through this," he settled me, "You're going to be ok. Just keep listening to me, ok?"

"But the angry sparkly ladies," I sobbed, throwing my blanket over me, "They're...They're really bad."

Chuck snapped his fingers, "And now, they're gone, aren't they?"

I poked my head out from my small blanket fort. And the fairies had disappeared, "They're gone...Are they going to be ok?"

"They'll be fine," he sat at the edge of my bed, holding my hand, his touch strangely reassuring, "Everything's going to be ok. You'll be alright, Lena. You have your brothers looking out for you. You have an angel on your shoulder. You just need to rest for a while, ok? And that means taking a break from the fed work, too."

"What kind of social worker are you?" I wondered.

"Like I told you," Chuck smiled, "I'm just a friendly face walking by."

"Thank you, Chuck..."

"Lena," Dean came back in my room with some sort of drink in his hand and Chuck had disappeared, "Here. Drink this. It'll slow your trip down, if not completely stop it."

"Thanks," I took a good, heavy drink from it. That was some kind of tea. Not bad, "Will you stay with me until it's gone?"

"Of course I will," he promised as I curled into his ribs, "I'm not going anywhere, Lena. Neither one of us are."

"Swear to me..."

"I swear," Dean cradled me, "I told Bobby I'd take care of you, didn't I?"

"We don't talk about that, Dean," I put my foot down, "We don't bring up the djinn dream ever again."

"Ok," he kissed the top of my head, "Why don't you get some sleep, kiddo? We'll head out in the morning."

"Ok," I laid my head over my brother's heart and the slow, rhythmic beating pulled me into a soft, gentle slumber. I was going to be ok...But I shouldn't ignore big, red letters ever again. That was a bad idea on my part.

 **A/N: This whole chapter was kind of trippy. And that was its intention. Because you can't tell me that the bunker doesn't have an extensive spice rack that the wrong combination wouldn't make your head spin like this. Also, I needed the boys being all cute and brother-y for a while. Why not? I actually really like the way this chapter turned out. Good for me. Four for you, Lumi. You go, Lumi. If you have any suggestions ever for what you need to see in this, feel free to hit me up. You know where the reviews are. You know where my inbox is. I'll see you next chapter! xx**


	12. Fish in a Barrel

The boys and I were getting restless. We were sick of working the same petty little local jobs. Fortunately, a haunted hospital in Portland where a few teenagers were brutally killed called our names. There's no way that wasn't our thing. Just what we needed. A good, long, family road trip. That is until the gar started to make noises it shouldn't.

"What?" Dean checked the gauges as the Impala started slowing down on its own, "No, no, no!"

"What?" Sam got nervous, "What is it?"

"Son of a bitch!" Dean slammed on the steering wheel, "Dammit! What the hell?"

"What's the matter, sweetie?" I wondered, the car coming to a complete stop.

"Car broke down," he pouted, "Lena, did Bobby teach you anything about vehicle maintenence?"

"Plenty."

"Then, get out," Dean kicked his door open, "I'll need the help."

"Ok," I followed him closely as he popped the hood open.

"Come on, baby," he whispered to it, "What's the matter? What happened? Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."

"Are you going to buy her dinner, too?" I teased.

"She looks just fine," Dean grumbled, "I can't see what the problem is."

"I don't know either," I looked it over, "Hey, Sam, where's the nearest town from here?"

"There's one just up the road," Sam checked his GPS, "Bedgood, Oregon."

"There's probably a garage up there," I settled our manic brother, "I'm sure we can get a tow and they can see what's going on."

"Alright," Dean agreed, "I guess that'll have to do."

The three of us started walking toward the small town of Bedgood, Oregon. It reminded me a lot of Hartford. That whole quintessential small town thing. Just a little way past the welcome sign was a diner boasting the best pie in the state. Because I knew my brother well, I knew he couldn't turn that down.

"Excuse me," I dealt with one of the waitresses behind the counter, "You wouldn't happen to know where we could find a garage in town, would you?"

"My uncle owns the only garage in town," she smiled, "What's the trouble?"

"Our car broke down on the outskirts," I told, "Does he got a tow truck?"

"Yeah," she slipped me his business card, "Here's his number."

"Thanks," I smiled politely and sat down at our table, "Here, Dean. Here's the solution to all of our problems."

"I can't believe I'm about to let someone else touch her," Dean cringed, "But I'm stumped."

"It'll be alright," Sam comforted him, "I'm sure it's just a minor problem."

"God, I hope so..."

"Uncle Jimmy!" the waitress sang.

"Hey, Lizzie," a man chimed, sitting at the counter.

"Over there," she nodded toward our table, "Car problems."

"Is that right?" the man came over to our table, "So, I hear you folks are having some car problems?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded, "That's right. It started sputtering outside town."

"Well," he introduced himself, "Jimmy Post. I run the garage. If one of you want to ride with me in my tow truck, I'll get it in my shop. Take a look."

"That'd be awesome," Dean relaxed, "I'll go. Thanks, man. I appreciate it."

"It's no problem," Jimmy brushed him off, "We take care of each other around here like we're one big, happy family. Nothing wrong with a little hospitality. Hey, Lizzie! Put these three on my tab."

"You don't have to do that," Sam stopped him.

"You've been through enough," Jimmy said, "Besides, it's an excuse to bill you extra when we're done, isn't it?"

"Uh..."

"I'm screwing with you, guy," he gave Sam a pop to the shoulder, "It's really no trouble."

"I like this guy," Dean lit up, "Yeah, we'll grab some food and get the car in a minute."

"Relax," Jimmy settled him, "Whenever you're ready, I'll be at the counter."

"Thanks," Sam sent him off and Dean almost turned into a puddle right in the booth.

"Thank God," he sighed out, "Free meal and he's checking the car out? He seems alright."

"Yeah," I agreed, cautiously looking over my brother's shoulder. If being with these two has taught me anything, it's to be skeptical of everyone and everything.

"Lena?" Dean kicked me under the table, "What's up? You got the look."

"What look?" I wondered, "And since when are you an expert on my looks?"

"Alright," he backed off, "So defensive."

"It's nothing," I brushed it off, "Probably just me being paranoid."

"Probably."

After we finished eating, Dean left with Jimmy to get the car and left Sam and me behind. They weren't lying about the pie. I haven't had any other pie in Oregon, but damn, that was good pie...I rested my head on Sam's shoulder and nodded off for a minute or two. But before I knew it, we were at Jimmy's garage.

"Well," he came out, "I ran it through diagnostics and by the looks of things, you overloaded the alternator."

"Alternator?" Dean gave him a look, "I checked the alternator before we got into town. It didn't look like there was a thing wrong with it."

"Don't blame me," Jimmy put his hands up, "I call them as I see them. And the alternator was overloaded. I could probably have everything fixed by the morning."

"Where's the nearest hotel from here?" Dean asked, shooting longing glances at his beautiful baby up on the jack.

"If you talk to Edna at the inn," Jimmy suggested, "Drop my name and she'll let you crash there for the night. Everything included. Cable, HBO, room service. Whole nine."

"Really?" Sam wondered, starting to share my skepticism.

"She's in love with me," Jimmy laughed to himself, "She's a good girl, though. Feisty one, though. You boys might want to be careful."

"Thank you, Jimmy," I nodded, "You've been a hell of a tour guide since we got here."

"You're welcome," he threw an arm around me, "We've already considered you family. Stay as long as you want."

"Thanks," I peeled him off me. Maybe I was just overthinking it. This really was a nice little town. Quaint, clean, good people. I needed to stop waiting for the other shoe to drop.

As soon as we got to the inn, a woman sat at the reception desk, petting a fat, white cat. She had to be in her mid to late seventies at least. I left the boys in the lobby and took care of things. Immediately, I caught the woman's eye, "Hello! Welcome to Bedgood! You're not a local girl, are you?"

"No," I shook my head, "My brothers and I are just passing through and we need a place to sleep while our car's getting fixed. We're looking for Edna."

"That's me," the woman smiled, holding her cat up to me, "And this is Bootsy. Say hi, Bootsy."

Edna waved the cat's paw at me. Ok. Chalking this one up to a crazy cat lady, but I couldn't pass up a fat cat if I wanted to. I started petting his head, "Hi, Bootsy. Aren't you a pretty kitty..."

"How many rooms, honey?" Edna asked me.

"Just one," I took Bootsy from her, holding him against me. My god, lady. What are you feeding him? There's no way he was this heavy from kibble alone, "Jimmy Post sent us."

"I do love Jimmy," she let out a heavy, dreamy sigh, "If you're here with your brothers, where are they? Still at Jimmy's?"

"They're in the lobby," I pointed out, sitting Bootsy on the counter, "Over there."

"Are they...?" Edna grinned, "Lucky girl..."

"They're my brothers," I reminded her.

"And they're staying in my inn," she grabbed our room key off the peg board, "What do they do for a living? If you don't mind me saying this, they look like they could be underwear models."

I understood where she was coming from. Sam and Dean were gorgeous, but they were still my brothers at the end of the day. I had to come up with some sort of back story. With the way we work, I should be a pro at this by now, "We're journalists. We're on our way to Portland."

"Are they single?"

"They're detached," I took our key off the counter, "Thank you."

Jimmy did warn she was feisty. She just needed to keep her claws out of my boys. I grabbed my bag off one of the chairs in the lobby and Sam and Dean followed me to our room. With the day we've had, I needed a good, strong drink, twelve hours of solid sleep, and a cigarette.

"I'm just going to address the elephant in the room," Dean broke the silence, "Anyone else getting Stepford vibes from this place?"

"Big time," I nodded, nearly giving myself whiplash, "I thought I was the only one that noticed it."

"You're both being paranoid," Sam wrote us off, "Or just that cynical."

"I was born cynical," I shrugged, taking a cigarette out of the pack. Damn...My last one, too. I'm sure there's a convenience store somewhere around here, "That's been permanently engrained in my personality makeup."

"Maybe we are looking gift horses in the mouth here," Dean settled, "Maybe the people are just friendly."

"I don't know," I winced, looking for my Zippo. Which was nowhere to be found, "Any of you two got my lighter?"

"Didn't you drop it in the last grave we burned?" Sam pointed out.

"That's right," I groaned, "Could you do a girl a favor?"

"Take it outside, Lena," Dean gave me his.

"I planned on it," I assured, "Don't let Edna in here. Or Bootsy."

"Who the hell is Bootsy?"

"The cat," I rolled my eyes, "But I think Edna may try and grab ass, so for your own safety, stay here. I'll be right back."

"Alright," Dean sent me out with my knife in my back pocket. They figured a couple months without incident was enough for me to get it back, "Be careful."

"I'll be fine," I promised, shutting the door behind me.

I went outside and sat on the lid of the dumpster in the back. This brought back some memories. When I was still living in Hartford, I remember Mel and me sitting behind the bar having a cigarette and some of the deepest conversations I've ever had in my life. I had my first one behind that bar sitting on the dumpster. Hell, I scored a bomber jacket out of that dumpster once! Being in Bedgood made me miss the good old days.

To absolutely no surprise at all, I got back to the room and the boys were both out cold. We have had a hard day. And they deserved it. They did what they did...We did what we did and we shut up about it. I couldn't even begin to imagine how many lives these two have saved, my own included. I didn't have to. I've read the Supernatural books. Not saying we didn't lose some along the way, but if we looked at those, we'd drive ourselves insane.

I don't know where I'd be without Sam and Dean. I'd probably be dead under the overpass in Hartford or I'd be scraping by. Instead, I got these two idiots that I wouldn't trade for the world. Granted, I've seen a lot of crap with these boys, but we always come out on top. Somehow, some way, but we do. Our family may be little and broken, but it was ours and no one could take that away from us. It's like Uncle Bobby used to always tell me when people would say I wasn't his niece. Family didn't end in blood.

The next morning, the three of us woke up and headed to the garage first thing. Dean didn't like to be away from his baby for long. And I couldn't blame him. If I had a car like her, I wouldn't want anyone else's hands all over her either. Sure enough, Jimmy still had his head under the hood. That can't be a good sign.

"Well?" Dean worried, "How's she doing?"

"Not only did your alternator have problems," Jimmy came out, "But there was a break in your fuel pump, too."

"Poor baby," Dean rubbed her hood, "What's the matter with you?"

"It'll probably be another few days before she's back on the road," Jimmy told him, "Until then, why don't you three come with Lizzie and me?"

"Where?" Sam asked while Jimmy eyed me up...That's not a little unsettling.

"Do you not own a calendar?" he chuckled, "It's Sunday. You sinning heathens don't go to church?"

"Not really the type," Dean bit his tongue.

"It's been a while," I stepped in, "That's what he means. We'd love to. What could it hurt?"

"Really?" Dean started to question my sanity.

"Can I see you two outside?" I put on a fake smile for Jimmy, dragging my boys out of the garage and out of earshot.

"What's up?" Sam shared my concern.

"This may be the lack of morning cigarette talking," I twitched, "But something about this town has felt off since we got here."

"I thought we weren't looking this gift horse in the mouth," Dean reminded me.

"This feels like our kind of weird," I worried, "Something about this whole town is weird. The people have been diabetically sweet. I can feel it in my gut. There's something not right and I want to look into it. I know it's cliche to say you're going to church to look for answers, but maybe there's something to it."

"Alright," Dean threw his arm around me, "It's not like we can go anywhere anyway."

"That, too!" I squeaked, keeping my voice down, "Come on, Dean. You know better than I do that you keep that car running like a dream, but all of a sudden, it breaks down? And you couldn't find a thing wrong with it, but when we bring it to the garage in this town, the alternator's screwed up? And now the fuel pump? We need to stick around here."

"Lena," Sam asked, "Are you sure? There are decent people in the world, you know."

"Positive," I put my foot down, "We're poking around a little more."

"Ok," Dean allowed.

"And I need a cigarette like nobody's business," I cringed, "You guys think you could distract the mechanic long enough for me to get an ID out of the trunk?"

"Go ahead," Sam nodded, "We can handle Jimmy. Get in there, get out."

"Ok," the three of us went back into the garage and the boys started making small talk with Jimmy about everything and anything. I didn't really pay much attention. I popped the trunk and lifted up the false bottom, hiding all the guns and knives and anything we needed to keep us safe and opened the cigar box with all my IDs in it.

Over the past six months I've been with Sam and Dean, I've managed to accumulate quite a collection. Amazing what a Kinko's can do. Let's see...Who do I want to be? I didn't have time to shop. They all had my face on them. Ann Wilson would have to do. As quietly as I could, I shut the trunk and slipped back into the conversation.

"Hey, Jimmy," I gave him a little nudge, "You wouldn't happen to know where there's a gas station or a liquor store, would you?"

"If you're looking to buy alcohol," Jimmy told, "You're out of luck. The town's dry on Sundays and the liquor store's closed. But the mini mart's open. It's a little way past the church."

"Thank God," I chuckled a little at the irony, "Boys? Shall we?"

The boys and I left Jimmy to his work and made it to the mini mart just past the church. The guy behind the counter didn't even card me. What a waste of a good fake ID. Oh, well. Maybe I had God on my side after all. When I made it back outside, I took my first drag of the morning and it felt like slipping into a warm bathtub down to my toes.

"Better?" Dean asked.

"So much better," I blew out a little cloud of smoke, "I should quit these damn things, but they can't quit me."

"I'm sure if you tried hard enough," Sam took my new lighter, "You could have the habit kicked in three months."

"Screw that," I took it back, "Let me live."

"Trying to."

I stepped on the end of my cigarette and the three of us walked up the stairs to the church. Of course, we caught the attention of the good reverend, "You're not from around here, are you?"

"No," I shook my head.

"Newcomers, then," he smiled, sending a chill down my spine, "Reverend Patterson."

"Pleasure to meet you, Reverend," Dean extended the same courtesy, "I'm Dean. This is my brother Sam and my sister Lena."

"Lena," the reverend put his hand to my cheek, "You're very pretty. You have the most porcelain skin."

"Thank you...?" I stepped back.

"She's underage," Dean got defensive.

"That's not a problem," Reverend Patterson said, "Merely paying her a compliment. As pure as an angel."

"I don't know about that," I knew some angels that were pretty impure. I've seen Cas sneaking in Dean's room late at night. Not to mention, I've done some things that aren't exactly the holiest thing. But that usually ended with the nuns bruising either my knuckles or my ass. Either one.

"I do, child," he assured, "Your eyes are like starlight. The lord truly spent extra time on you, didn't he?"

"We should be heading inside now," I cringed a little. What the hell was that all about? That alone was warranting a spot in the back.

"That wasn't creepy," Dean shared my sentiment.

"Just a little," Sam agreed, "You alright, Lena?"

"I feel like I need a shower for some reason," I shivered, "But I'll be alright."

"Good morning, everyone," Reverend Patterson began his sermon, "Today, I want to talk to all of you about redemption."

"Oh, wonderful," I bit my tongue, laying my head on Dean's shoulder, "Wake me when he's done."

"You're the one that said you wanted to go," Dean whispered to me, shaking me a bit, "You're staying awake."

"Now, even the most impure of souls can be redeemed," the reverend went on, "As long as you accept the Lord into your heart and into your life, you can be redeemed. No matter what you've done, there is no sin that is unforgivable if you give yourself over. Even if you don't see it, He does. If you sacrifice yourself in His name, if you give yourself over to Him, you will be redeemed."

Reverend Patterson stared a hole through me the entire service. I needed more than a shower by the end. I needed an exorcism. Luckily for me, I knew a couple by now. My Latin had greatly improved since I started hanging around Sam and Dean. In my defense, it had been drilled into my skull, so if I didn't have a decent grasp on it, I deserved to be clubbed.

Once the service ended, the three of us made a beeline out of the church and back to the diner. I think my stomach grumbled half a dozen times while we were sitting there. And pancakes. Pancakes sounded like such a good idea. And bacon. Bacon, too. While we shoved our faces full of food like we hadn't eaten in days, our table got an unexpected visitor.

"Hey, guys," Jimmy walked up to us.

"Jimmy!" Dean chimed, "Good news, I hope?"

"Sorry," he winced, "It's like when I fix one problem, two more pop up in its place. What kind of trouble do you drag this poor car through?"

"We've had it for a while," Sam told him.

"How many previous owners has it had?" Jimmy wondered.

"One," Dean put his fork down, "Our dad. Then, it was ours."

"So, she's got sentimental value, huh?" Jimmy figured, "I was wondering why she hasn't been scrapped yet. Other than she's a classic."

I could feel Dean's anger from the other side of the booth, "So, how long until the car's fixed?"

"It's going to be a while," he thought it over, "So, what'd you think of the reverend's service this morning?"

"Very uplifting," Sam stepped in while I did my best to push the vein back in Dean's forehead.

"Yeah," Jimmy nodded, "Reverend Patterson's been here all his life. Honestly, I think the whole town would be lost without him."

"Bless him," Dean grumbled.

"I'll let you guys get back to breakfast," Jimmy took the hint and left us alone.

"Is it me," I wondered, "Or are we being kept here?"

"The first chance we get," Dean ordered, "We're checking out the garage. You're right, Lena. There is something going on. And I think that reverend's got something to do with it."

As soon as we finished breakfast, we headed for the garage. Lookie there. No one's home. How convenient. Before we went in, the three of us cased the place, making absolute sure no one was home. Empty nest. Fantastic. I watched as Dean ran his hand over the Impala's body.

"Hey there, gorgeous," he kissed one of her side mirrors, "Let's see how you're really doing, yeah?"

"Dean," I gave him a look, "Are you ok?"

"No," Dean froze almost immediately, "Tires...They...Her tires..."

"What about it?" Sam worried.

"They slashed her tires," Dean nearly went into a full blown panic, "They slashed my baby's tires. I'm going to kick that son of a bitch's ass!"

"Dean," I put my hand to his shoulder, "Settle down. We'll get plenty of time for that. She'll be ok. We're in a body shop. We'll be able to get her some new tires."

"Ok," he took short, rapid breaths. Not quite hyperventilating, but getting there.

"Sam," I begged, "Keep an eye on him. I'm going to get some things from the trunk. I'll meet you boys outside."

"Ok," Sam took our brother back outside to keep watch while I dug around in the trunk for a couple more IDs. Never know when they'll come in handy. And I needed a better knife. It's time to take the training wheels off. I was fine.

Until I felt someone catch me off guard and grab me from behind, holding a rag over my nose and mouth. Dammit...Chloroform? Where the hell would someone get chloroform in a town like this? More importantly, who? And what would they want with me? I knew there was something going on here.

When I came to, I was alone and I couldn't stop shaking. Wherever I was, this room was freezing. Like someone cranked the air conditioning up all the way. Then again, I also didn't have any pants on. And the weird ass robes I was wrapped in weren't exactly warm either. What the hell?

"You're awake for the fun," a voice sang softly. Wait a minute. I knew who this was. Last time I had seen her, she was bringing me pancakes.

"What's happening?" I still felt really disoriented. And cold. I didn't need to be this cold. It could be the middle of July and the air could've gone out for a week and I wouldn't want to be in this kind of cold.

"A great honor," another voice, a man this time, joined in, "You're about to be a very important person, my little angel. I'm sure the gods would appreciate such a beautiful creature such as yourself. Go ahead, Lizzie."

Wait. That was...I knew he was shifty. Something about the good reverend struck me as unsettling since we got to town. All of a sudden, everything started to fall into place. The town would fall apart without the reverend, right? Is that because he leads your cult, too? If this town was a cult, what did they want with me? Convert me? Or something completely different? Because I'm not drinking this Kool-Aid here.

If I was in the weird ass cult robes, they probably had my normal clothes. Which means they have my lighter, my knife, anything I could've used as a weapon. Wait a minute...I didn't feel anything on my neck. My necklace. My necklace Uncle Bobby gave me. It's gone!

"Where is it?" I growled, starting to fight back. But unfortunately, they were a step ahead of me and had me restrained on this table.

"Relax, Lena," Lizzie, the waitress from the diner, started untying my robes, "Don't struggle."

"Where's my necklace?!" I snapped, making more of a fuss.

"Shh..." the reverend hushed me, "You couldn't have any of your earthly possessions on you. You need to be naked, pure...The way you should be."

"What are you doing?!" I wiggled around more while she tried to get me just that way, "Usually when someone wants to get me naked, they need to at least buy me dinner first."

"You speak like such a heathen," Reverend Patterson scolded, "To think, you've been chosen."

"What do you mean I've been chosen?" I winced, feeling a warm cloth run over my bare legs.

"First," he explained, cradling my cheek in his hand, "We remove all earthly possessions. Then, we bathe the body. Then, the exciting part happens."

I remembered reading something in the bunker about a lot of other cults and some of their beliefs. There was one in the seventies that lured people to wherever they decided to call home and those who followed their call were never heard from again. And, oddly enough, it was in this general area. Their leader preached of salvation and redemption for all sinners and all it required was...Hold the phone...

"Am I a sacrifice?!" I screeched.

"A very important sacrifice," the reverend corrected, "We need a young woman who has strayed from her path. And as far as I know, Lena, that's you. You're a young woman living in sin with two older men that are not biologically your brothers. There's no family resemblance at all."

"I was adopted!"

"They're not your blood, my little angel," he ran his fingers down my face, "You partake in nicotine and alcohol."

"Who doesn't?"

"How many men have taken you, child?" the reverend asked.

"None!" I squealed, "And that's none of your business!"

"You have lied and stolen, have you not?"

It was time to fight dirty. I needed to show him how much of a sinner I've been, "Yes. I've lied to nuns to pursue such sin. I snuck out every night to go to the bar. I've done drugs, I've gotten drunk, I've done just about everything. If it ended in booze, a bar, or a brothel, it was mine."

The reverend whipped his hand across my face, "I didn't want to do that, sweetheart."

"You know what else?" I couldn't physically fight back, but I could do the next best thing. I could stall, "The obscenities that roll out of my mouth like their commonplace on a daily basis…Every single one of them. The lies that come off my silver tongue. The manipulation I can do to a person. I'm beyond saving. Trust me. There's a cozy place in Hell with my name on it. I can promise you that. I've met the king before. I've nearly sold my soul and he rejected it."

"Bite your tongue!" he slapped me again with a little more force than the last one.

"You think," I spat the blood in my mouth on the floor, "that just because you're going to sacrifice me to your god, that's going to be my path to redemption? That it's going to get me a one-way ticket upstairs? You really think they care about me? You know, Reverend, I don't know the answer to that. God doesn't pick up the phone and the King of Hell doesn't want me. So, for the time being, I'm going to wander this Earth with the two people I know give a damn about me and I'm not going to be your sacrifice."

"It looks like we're going to have to move this along," Reverend Patterson took a hot iron out of his fire, "With this iron, you shall bear the mark of a reformed sinner. May God take you into his unconditional embrace, but you shan't forget the sins of your past."

"Hey, asshat!" a familiar voice settled my stomach, along with the cocking of his gun, "You get one shot to beg for real mercy."

"You don't understand," the reverend stopped him, putting his iron down. Sorry, Lizzie. You seemed like a nice girl and I didn't want to do this to you, but I slid my foot under the bar of the iron and clocked her in the side of the head with it. Not enough to kill her, but just enough to knock her out. I retied my robe and started to kick ass and take names, starting with the disgusting reverend that didn't need to see me naked today.

Strike while the iron's still hot, right? I shoved the branding into Reverend Patterson's chest, watching the pain in his eyes boil over, "You don't touch me. Ever. My sinning ass is getting out of here. You're going to go on living your life, knowing what you've done."

"What did he do, Lena?" Sam bared his teeth, armed with a silver knife. That looked like my knife!

"He was about to sacrifice me," I was still coming down from the adrenaline rush.

"No," Dean readied his shot, "He's not."

"What?" the reverend's eyes flashed the darkest black I've ever seen, "I can't keep this town like mindless sheep?"

"Nope." Almost immediately, Dean pulled the trigger, putting a bullet in this thing's brain. Demons? "Sammy, check the girl."

"She's not a demon," I assured, "She just followed him blindly."

"Ironic, isn't it?" Dean scoffed, scooping me into his arms, "You ok, Lena?"

"Fine," I promised, "How did you guys know where to find me?"

"You took too long in the trunk," Sam chuckled a bit, "I thought I told you to get in and get out."

"Never was one for following the rules," I giggled, my mind slowly easing again.

"When we realized you were gone," Dean continued, "We went back to the inn and talked to Edna. Feisty girl, but she's been here all her life. Town started going to Hell when Reverend Black Eyes started preaching here. And she told us to keep a close eye on you. Then, we changed the tires on the car real quick and headed here."

"Where is here exactly?" I wondered, "They knocked me out when they brought me here."

"You're in the church's basement," he pushed my hair out of my face, "Just glad to see you're ok."

"We never speak of this again," I demanded, "Agreed?"

"Yes, ma'am," Dean nodded, "Let's get to Portland, sound good?"

"Hell yes."

 **A/N: Amazing when regular people can be the monsters. And the Reverend's been there since the seventies? At least everything's ok and the crazy cat lady inadvertently saves the day. Now, I'm going to address a quick guest comment asking me if this is going to follow canon. I'm not entirely sure about that. I could very well make this follow with canon, but on that same note, I could take it in a completely different direction. We'll see. So, next week, we're going to be in Portland. You know that's going to be a pretty sight. See you next chapter.**


	13. The Kids Aren't Alright

The sooner we could get out of Bedgood, the better. I wanted to forget about this little adventure until it comes back to haunt me in my thirties. It sucks I couldn't find my necklace, though. That was one of those irreplaceable things. We were just about finished with our packing and on our way to the front desk.

"By the way, Lena," Sam stopped me, draping a familiar dainty chain around my neck, "I almost forgot. You probably want this back."

"Sam!" I hugged my brother tight, "Where did you find this?"

"Sitting on top of your clothes in the church basement," he told me, "I held onto it, so it wouldn't get lost."

"Uncle Bobby gave me this necklace," I played with the pendant, "He told me this was his way of keeping me safe."

"It's a protection crystal, isn't it?" Dean came out of the bathroom.

"Aegerine, by the looks of it," Sam looked it over.

"It's pretty heavy duty according to Cas," I remembered, "Speaking of, where is the little angel?"

"I got a call from him last night," Dean threw his bag over his shoulder, "He's waiting for us in Portland. Let's go."

All we had left to do was leave the key at the front desk. And after we got back last night, we were exhausted. I had a wonderful woman to thank. If it weren't for her, I might have been some demon's virgin sacrifice. I owed everything to her.

"Hi, boys," Edna winked at my brothers, "Did you find her?"

"They sure did," I pushed my way through, "Thank you, Edna. I really do appreciate it."

"All life is precious, honey," she assured, taking my hands, "Especially a young life like yours. And like those gorgeous creatures you travel with."

"I don't think you understand," I shook under her grasp, "You saved me."

"I just gave a nice little tip," Edna picked up the fat cat that liked to sit on the counter, "Those two are the ones that saved your life."

"More than once," I smiled, giving the kitty a little pet, "But now, we have to say goodbye."

"We'll miss you," she lifted Bootsy's paw, making him wave to me. Hard to believe the crazy cat lady saved the day, but she did.

"Bye, Bootsy," I gave him one last pet and the three of us got into the car.

"Why do I have that feeling," Dean fired up the engine, "that one day, we're going to come back from the Vegas trip or a hunt you decided to stay behind on and we'll have a stray puppy running around the bunker?"

"You already have a stray puppy running around the bunker," I joked darkly, "It's me."

"You're not a stray," Sam promised, "You're family."

"Thanks, Sammy," I melted a little inside. Then, I realized what I called him. He gave me a weird look, but let it go entirely. That was one of those things I had only heard Dean call him. No one else. But it said it on the back of that baby picture I found in the journal. I'm sure someone else called him Sammy at least once in his life.

All that aside, we were about an hour out of Portland. Might as well make good use of my time. And by good use of my time, that usually meant me putting in a pair of headphones and taking a nap. This backseat was my Ambien and the music my warm blanket. Although, I had one of those, too. Gray, black, white plaid and smelled like lighter fluid. With a hint of motor oil these days. I wasn't sure why, but it had motor oil there, too. This was what home felt like.

When we got to our scary motel for the night, we met with our fine, feathered friend in our room, "Hello, Dean, Sam, Lena."

"Hey, Cas," I threw my bag on the bed, "What do you got?"

"Where have you been?" Cas reminded me of one of the nuns from the orphanage that always told me she was going to use her mom voice on me. Or one of the Sioux Falls cops that had a love/hate relationship with me. It wasn't much for me to get into trouble sometimes...

"We got a little tied up an hour south of here," Dean explained.

"Demons," he figured, "I thought I smelled their kind."

"I almost ended up a sacrifice," I brushed it off, "What would a demon want with me?"

"Demons have a thing about virgins," Cas told, "They're purer than the average human that's pursued sins of the flesh."

"Cas!" I squeaked as the heat started rising in my cheeks, "Verbal filter!"

"Sorry," he bit his tongue.

"Again," I grumbled, "What do you got?"

"Yes," Cas went on, "The haunted mental hospital."

"A haunted mental hospital?" I froze, "Yeah, no. I'm going to sit this hunt out, if that's cool with you."

"What's the matter, Lena?" Sam wondered.

"Yeah," Dean worried, "This isn't your first restless spirit."

"I'm going to have to pass on the mental hospital," I jumped onto the bed.

"Sorry it's not a haunted Disneyland," he chuckled a bit, "Come on, kiddo. Suit up. We need to go case the place."

"No," I put my foot down, "I'm staying behind."

"We need the man power," Dean insisted, "You're easily worth three."

"I'm flattered," I shook my head, "But no. You guys can go without me."

One trip to a mental hospital was plenty. That was one of those things that I've done once in my life and never wanted to do again. My first trip is the sole reason why I keep my feelings to myself. And I think Dean was starting to pick up on that, "Alright then. Cas, you're with us. Lena, you're in the books."

"That I can do," I agreed, "Go on. You guys need anything, give me a call."

"We won't be long," he promised, "Shall we?"

"We shall," Sam grabbed the door behind him, keeping me safe and secure inside.

Well, time to get in the books. And by get in the books, we meant cracking open Sam's laptop and doing some googling. If I couldn't do that much, I needed to be taken out behind the woodshed and shot. It's bad enough I was leaving them by themselves. Granted, they've been doing this for a while, so they know what they're doing, but still. I didn't like leaving those boys unattended. That's when they get into trouble.

Let's see. The place was called Shady Shores Mental Institute. That doesn't sound omnious. Opened in 1935. Lost its funding in the seventies. Now privately funded by boosters. Only two of them are left alive. And they're a nice married couple. That's cute. Even cuter, they were once patients in the hospital and met there. Together ever since. I guess one can find love in the strangest place.

When it nearly lost its funding, Dan and Maryann Ross, the ones that met there, formed the booster club and saved it from closing its doors. Apparently, they wanted to do some good for the community. This was boring! Although, it's better than the alternative. The more I dug into the website, the more I wanted a drink. And Dean hid his whiskey on me.

Hey...What do we have here? The boosters are having a gala tomorrow night. I'm sure we could get more information at that party than we could online. And I could get a drink and no one would care! That sounded like a capital idea! I think I've done enough research for the day. How about a break? A break sounded fair.

Time to do a little charity of my own. I did a quick skim of Dean's porn bookmarks, hoping to find something good. Some were a little shameful, but I didn't judge. Oh, Dean, honey...No, no, no. These hentai sites were full of malware. I was going to have to do a complete overhaul. Shouldn't take longer than an hour or so. I could have this cleaned out and replaced with better ones by the time the boys get back, I'm sure.

I started cleaning out the computer and replaced all of Dean's hentai sites with some of my favorites. I wasn't completely sure what he was into, but going by what he already had bookmarked, the bigger the knockers, the better. He did have Busty Asian Beauties in his favorites. I'm sure he wouldn't have a problem with a couple yuri sites. And going by the looks he gives our favorite little angel once in a while, I'm sure he'd be ok with some yaoi, too. Again, I don't judge. If there was one thing I was well versed in, it's anime porn. I just hoped to God he wasn't into the tentacle crap. That's disturbing. I didn't understand how people got off to that.

There. All done! That wore me out more than it should have. Instead of making a drink (The liquor store was too far away on foot and I was beat.), I decided the next best course of action were some good, old fashioned cartoons. Because why the hell not? While I flipped through the channels, an engine rumble I knew all too well roared up to our door.

"Lena," Dean pushed the door open, "We're home."

"Hey," I killed the volume, "How'd it go?"

"What the hell?" he scolded, "You're supposed to be doing research. What are you doing watching Scooby Doo?"

"One, there was nothing else on," I defended, "And two, I did do research. The boosters are throwing a gala at the Marriot tomorrow night at eight o'clock. If you're really wanting to do research, spidey senses tell me we'd probably get the best intel from the horse's mouth."

"Sounds like fun," Sam came in behind his brother with Cas tailing close behind, "We are going, right?"

"Yeah," I grumbled, "And that's easy for you to say. You're not the one that's going to have to femme fatale for this. It's a black tie event."

"Gross," Dean sympathized.

"Well," I got up from the bed, "If you boys will excuse me, I'm going to go stretch my credit card. I'm taking the angel and I'm going shopping. Do you want anything while we're out?"

"No," Sam shook head, "We should be good."

"You're doing what with the angel?" Cas wondered as I took his hand.

"Come on," I dragged him off, "We're going shopping. We'll be back soon!"

"Don't take all day!" Dean called after us.

"We won't!"

Cas and I took off for the nearest ritzy department store and got to work. Damn, this place was expensive, but worth the investment. I'm sure this isn't going to be the first fancy party we were going to have to attend. It's the same as when Dean and I got my fed suit. I still cringe every time I put it on. I grabbed a few dresses and the two of us headed to the dressing room.

"Lena," Cas kept his voice down, "Can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead," I allowed, "What's on your mind?"

"Why wouldn't you come look at the hospital with us?" he asked, "You've become one of the best hunters I've ever met, but you opted out of the hospital. Why?"

That was to be expected, but I still didn't see it coming. I slid down the wall in my dressing room, breathing out a heavy sigh, "It's a long story."

"I got time," Cas insisted, "I'm thousands of years old, Lena. I saw the creation of man. I'm sure you could tell me the longest story ever created and I'd still be around to listen. Why wouldn't you come with us?"

"Let's just say," I bit my tongue, "It brings back some really bad memories. There was a time where the nuns couldn't handle me. They treated me more like a problem than a person. So, I spent two weeks in a hospital for unnecessary aggression."

"That sounds unpleasant," he dropped it.

"It wasn't pretty," I shook it off, coming out of my dressing room in a bright red dress that went down to my knee if I was lucky, "What do you think? Too slutty?"

"No," Cas shook his head, "I don't think it's slutty at all."

"So, not slutty enough," I went back to the drawing board and looked over the others I had blindly picked out. I liked the black one and I could never go wrong with a black dress. I looked pretty damn good in one, if I remembered correctly. But there was a navy one in my options that called out to me. And even better than black, I looked real femme fatale in navy. I could look like a pin-up in a navy dress.

In that moment, I decided. That was the one. The navy dress was a lot less harsh on me than the black one. Without even needing to try it on, I grabbed my dress and my angel and snaked through the store. I couldn't do this dress without the shoes. My Chucks could only get me so far and they looked like they were going to fall apart.

After checking out, Cas and I passed the Sephora counter. Naturally, I got curious. I remember when I was still living in Hartford and Mel decided to get up onstage from time to time to take my place. I was usually the one to do her makeup for that. And it wasn't much different from pin-up. And if I'm going to get anything for that, I might as well get the good stuff.

An hour and a half, roughly five hundred dollars, and a stop in the food court to get a pretzel later, Cas and I went back to the motel to find Sam and Dean reading into the booster couple. To no surprise, the table on Dean's side was littered in burger wrappers and a large drink while Sam's side was covered in notebooks and research materials.

"Boys," I threw the garment bag on the bed, "I'm back."

"Hey," Dean sang out, "How was shopping?"

"Fun times all around," I laid down.

"No offense, Lena," he corrected, "But I wasn't talking to you."

"Eye opening," Cas reported, "I learned things about women's clothing I never wanted to know. There were no actual angels in that store."

"You took Cas into a Victoria's Secret?" Dean shot me a look.

"I needed a strapless bra," I shrugged, "Sue me. I thought about getting a corset, but opted against it."

"Only you, Lena," he shook his head, "Only you would take an angel bra shopping."

"I didn't want to go by myself," I curled into the blankets.

"By the way," Dean wondered, "What did you to do my computer?"

"What do you mean?" I was on my way to sleep.

"It's running faster than what it was before," he went on, "I'm not complaining, but what did you do to it?"

"I cleaned out the malware," I let out a slight yawn, "And all of your porn sites got deleted."

"What?!"

"Trust me," I settled him, "They were the cause of it. I switched them with something just as wholesome as the old ones. It's like an all-you-can-eat buffet of cartoon boobies."

"Dude," Sam cringed, "Could we not have this conversation?"

"Sorry," I giggled in my delirium, "Can I go to sleep now?"

"Rest well, Lena," Cas sat in bed with me.

"Good night," I curled into the lap of my favorite angel and clocked out. This day felt like a week and I needed sleep. And lots of it. I had the sleep schedule of a cat. Eighteen hours wouldn't be enough. And tomorrow wasn't going to be any easier.

I was holed up in the bathroom for a good, solid three hours making myself presentable for this damn gala. Why did I even suggest it? I knew I hated these kinds of things. Stuffy old people with more money than they knew what to do with it. Maybe I could show a little bit of leg and end up with a sugar daddy by the end of the night. In fact, I knew I could do that much. Between the dress and the makeup, I was going to look hotter than hell.

"Come on, Lena," Dean pounded on the bathroom door, "We need to get going."

"I'm a girl!" I reminded him, finishing my very precise eyeliner. Wings should be sharp enough to kill a man, right? I needed a steady hand. Not to mention pin curls were a finicky thing, "It takes me longer to get ready for these kinds of things!"

"You're fine," he groaned, "Hurry up! We're wasting daylight!"

"It's seven-thirty! It's already dark outside!"

"You know what I mean!"

"You two fight like a married couple," Sam chuckled a bit.

"And the walls are paper thin," I pulled up the zipper on my dress, "I'm not deaf."

"Ready yet?" Dean pouted.

"Yeah," I came out of the bathroom, "Well? Good enough?"

"Very femme fatale," he whistled, "Damn, kid. You're like a new penny."

"Shut up," I blushed, "I'm underage, you pervert."

"You don't look it," Sam looked me over.

"Now that I'm done being treated like jailbait," I rolled my eyes, "Can we go now?"

"Yeah," Dean took my hand, "We can go."

"Hey," I did a quick scan around our room, "We're short one. Where's Cas?"

"He had some things to take care of," a brief look of sadness washed over Dean's face, "He won't be joining us tonight."

"The three of us then?" I walked off and got into the Impala. This gala was going to be a thorn in my side, but free booze? Old men that played loose with their wallets? I could do that.

When we got to the hotel downtown, we got into the party and started to mingle. It's amazing what happens when older gentlemen had a few under their belts and weren't paying attention. I got into trouble for pickpocketing a few times when I'd hang around Sioux Falls. They thought I was a klepto. Not a klepto. Just really bored.

"Excuse me," an older woman came up to me after I was on my second flute of champagne, "I'm sorry, dear, but I had to see you."

"Do I know you?" I wondered, getting a little nervous.

"No," she put her hand to my cheek, "But if I were to have had a granddaughter, I feel like she'd look almost exactly like you."

"Thank you," I gave her a smile, "I'm Lena."

"Maryann," she introduced herself, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lena."

"Wait a minute," I thought, "You wouldn't happen to be Maryann Ross, would you?"

"In the flesh," Maryann nodded, "So, you have heard of me."

"Of course I have," I assured, "Your work with the hospital can't go unrecognized. You're truly an inspiration."

"You're talking about Shady Shores," she assumed, "I met my husband there..."

"That's so sweet," I awed, keeping an eye out for the boys, who were getting their asses grabbed by horny old ladies that hadn't gotten any in years, "Is that why you started funding it?"

"One of the reasons," Maryann and I sat down, "Unfortunately, our son was in Shady Shores, too."

"Your son?" In all my research, I never once found anything on a son.

"Yes," she spoke softer, taking a more solomn tone, "He died in Shady Shores, so we shut that institution down and built a new building."

"I'm so sorry," I took her hand, "What was his name?"

"Allan," Maryann went on, "He was a good boy, too. Just a little messy in his head. And his medication was what ultimately killed him."

"This might sound strange," I warned, "But where is Allan buried? I'd like to go pay my respects."

"That's very sweet of you, Lena," she smiled, "Revered Grove. It's on the outskirts of town."

"Thank you," I gave her a hug, "Again, I'm so sorry about Allan. Hopefully, he's in a better place."

"I hope so, too."

I got up and started looking for my brothers. Only one of them was getting felt up now. Poor Sam. I had to do something. I couldn't just throw him to the wolves like this. Or in this case, the cougars. I slipped between my brother and an old lady, "Hi, honey. Where have you been all night?"

"Lena," Sam pulled me to his hip almost immediately, "There you are. We must have gotten separated at the door."

"Who are you?" one of the old women scoffed, glaring a hole through me.

"I'm the lucky girl that managed to land this one," I cuddled up to Sam.

"I didn't see a wedding ring," the other pointed out.

"It's getting resized," I got defensive, "And mine's been bent since our third anniversary. You remember that night, don't you, baby?"

"How could I forget?" Sam smiled uncomfortably, "We, uh...We went on that hiking retreat, didn't we?"

"You do remember," I awed, "Excuse us, ladies. We need to be going."

I separated Sam from the grandmas and got us somewhere safer. When we were out of eyeshot, I got the biggest, tightest hug I've ever gotten in my life, "Lena, I owe you."

"You're welcome," I choked out, "Could you not break me please?"

"Sorry," Sam put me down, "But that was cringe worthy."

"I could tell," I empathized, "You find out anything?"

"Apparently, Cindy thinks I should be modeling," he winced, "And Beatrice wants to play bongo drums on my ass. Her words exactly."

"I'm so sorry, sweetie," I understood his pain, "So, nothing on the hospital?"

"Nothing."

"And that's why it's a good thing there's two of us," Dean came over, "I just talked to Dan."

"And I was talking to Maryann," I told them, "You first."

"According to Dan," Dean began, "There's a son that no one knows about."

"His name is Allan," I added, "He was in Shady Shores, too."

"But here's the kicker," he went on, "Booze makes Dan a chatty guy. He never wanted Allan. And Allan's doctors upped his meds and he overdosed. There's a million miles of daddy issues there."

"And I thought ours were bad," Sam joked darkly.

"Well, boys," I chirped, "We got a body to burn. And I know where he's buried."

The three of us snuck out and met Cas at the cemetery. Sure enough, there he was. Allan Ross. Born February 16, 1966, died October 3, 1975. Rest in peace, man. It's too bad I didn't know you. But I'm sure your mom was right. You were a good boy and if you were given the opportunity, you would've been a great man. It's just too bad your dad was a terrible human being. I poured the lighter fluid over the hole in the ground while Sam poured in the salt and Dean dropped the match.

Sometimes, the job sucked something awful, but other times, it was easy. At least none of us got hurt this time. Aside from my almost sacrifice. I wish we wouldn't have had to go through that weird ass cult town, but oh well. Time to go back to the bunker and regroup. Onward and upward, right?

 **A/N: Hi, guys. Sorry this is up so late. I've been scatterbrained all day. But I kind of want to run something by you real quick. Next week, I had this idea to do something a little different. I'm thinking about doing something that's an actual thing. It's a legit ghost story and one of my favorites. Would that be ok? Just wanting to get some feedback. See you next chapter! xx**


	14. Play It Again, Sam

The rain trickled down the glass of Fredrico's apartment while the loud, awful thunder boomed outside and I shook violently in the corner. I had a love/hate relationship with bad thunderstorms. If it was a slight rumble, I was fine. I'd sleep like a baby. But this? This was absolutely horrifying.

"Lena..." Footsteps echoed in the hallway, "Mi amor, what's the matter? Why are you out here all by yourself?"

"I'm fine..."

"No, no. This won't do," Fredrico scooped me up into his warm, muscular arms, cradling me against his rock-hard chest, "Don't you worry, my dear. It's not going to get you in here. It'll be alright. Why don't we go back to bed, just the two of us?"

"Ok," I laid my head in his shoulder as he took me back to the bedroom. Fredrico put me down on the bed and crawled in next to me. His fingers entangled themselves in my hair and I started to fall back asleep with my head in his lap.

Knock, knock.

No...

"Lena!"

Dammit...

Knock, knock.

"Lena, wake up!"

Ugh...I got out of bed all kinds of pissed off. I had a feeling something was going to happen with Fredrico and me. If I would've slept a little longer, I would've had a beautiful moment with my subconscious, but oh, no! We can't have nice things, "What, Dean?"

"Grab your jacket," my brother ordered, "We need to get going. We got a job."

"Do we now?" I grabbed my jacket off the doorknob, "Where are we off to now?"

"Illinois," he filled me in, "According to an online forum, some kids were screwing around in a cemetery and a spirit didn't like it too much. It got a little punchy."

"Burning a body then?" I figured, "Sounds fun. And where is this all going down again?"

"Central City, Illinois."

"Alright," Dean and I joined Sam outside, "Let's get going then."

"You ok, Lena?" Sam worried, "You seem a little tense."

"I'm fine!" I snapped, immediately settling back down again, "Just a little tired and nicotine deprived."

Not to mention, Dean woke me up out of a sexy dream with my imaginary lover that could've ended with pancakes in the morning. I could've used a cigarette and more sleep, but I knew Dean would bitch at me for smoking in his car, so I was going to have to ride that one out. First gas stop, though, I jumped out and felt around in my pockets for my lighter and enjoyed the sweet feeling of relief.

"You know," Sam scolded, "One day, I'm going to have you kicked of that habit."

"You can try, Sammy," I sighed out a little cloud of smoke, "But good luck."

"Alright," he stuck his hand in my pocket and pulled out my cigarettes, "Consider it done."

"You don't want to do that," I assured him, "And with this case, you really, really don't want to do that. Put them back."

"No," Sam put his foot down.

"Not cool, Sam," I glared a hole through him, "I can always get more."

"How are you going to do that?" he retaliated, "I got your ID and Dean's not going to get you any if I ask him not to."

"I have my ways," I still had my ace in the hole.

"And Cas, too."

"Dammit!" I giggled, "I thought I had it."

"No more, Lena," Sam begged, "Please?"

I thought it over for a minute or two, "Let me finish the pack out."

"Because I know how you get without them," he gave me my cigarettes back, "Here."

"Alright, kids," Dean came out of the gas station with a bag in his hand, "Lena, I got your apple juice. Sam, I got us coffee. There's beef jerky in here. Shall we?"

"Did you get my cigarettes, too?" I wondered, testing one brother's patience and the other's loyalty.

"No," he shook his head, "Did you need some?"

"No," Sam stepped in, "She's quitting after this pack is over."

"You suck," I stuck my tongue out.

And away we went again to whatever magical wonderland awaited us. I knew it wasn't going to be much. It was some small town in southern Illinois with a ghost story. I don't know why I'd need to expect anything different. That's kind of become our thing. We never went to major cities. And when we did, it'd always be happening in a suburb. I grew up in a small town. I didn't want to be stuck in one forever.

Around eight o'clock, we rolled into town, completely wrecked from the drive. Once we got to our hotel for the night, I balled up on the bed and almost fell asleep right there on the spot, "So, how are we doing this?"

"First," Dean threw his bag on the bed next to me, "We're going to get a good night's sleep. Then, we need to do some undercover work."

"What else is new?" I giggled deliriously, "So, what are we going to be this time around? CIA? FBI? Park rangers?"

"Not exactly," Sam corrected, "Dean and I are going to be teaching at the local high school. And you're going to be the new kid."

"Hold on," I sat back up, "I have to go back to school?"

"Yep," Dean chirped.

"Eww..."

I hated my old high school. I don't see how this is going to be any better. Could I not have teeth pulled instead? Was the gynecologist with a hook hand busy? Playing the back nine? I could already tell this was going to suck. When I was still in high school, it was my own private hell. Of all the times to be forced to quit smoking, now wasn't a good one.

"Alright, Lena," the three of us were having our usual, pre-mission pep talk in the car, "Try to make friends and try not to get expelled."

"Damn," I grumbled sarcastically, "That was my goal for today."

"Ok, smartass," Dean scolded, "We'll regroup at lunch."

"I can feel my skin crawling already," I cringed.

"You'll be fine," Sam promised, "You're just the new kid in town. Go into the main office. They'll give you your schedule. We'll be around."

"Super," I bit the inside my cheek to keep myself from rolling my eyes. Well...Here goes nothing. I went into the main office, grabbed my schedule and headed to my first class of the day. Choir? Cute. I wonder who picked my classes for me...and didn't bother asking me about it.

First class of the day was in the band room, just off the cafeteria. I made myself comfortable in the back of the class, hoping to God I wasn't going to get called out on my first day. All I wanted was to blend in with every other kid in the room. It's not like we were sticking around here.

"It looks like we have a new student," the teacher found me, "Lena, right?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "That's me."

"Where are you from?" she asked.

"South Dakota," I tried not to sound bitter, but I had to admit I was a little on the salty side. I didn't want to be here. I wanted to get in and out as quick as I could and as invisible as possible.

"Do you think you could sing a little something for the class?" Dammit. Why?

"A solo already?" I tried letting the woman down easy. She seemed like a sweetheart.

"Please?" she begged, "This is a choir class."

"Ok," I caved, "Any preferences?"

"Anything you'd like," she insisted, "Go ahead. Do a little something acapella."

"Alright," I debated whether or not I wanted to show off. Do I want to show off? I'm in this hell for however long. Might as well show off just a little bit. I did AC/DC the day I met the boys. But this was, in fact, a choir class. I needed to show off the range a little bit. And I was feeling a little melancholy, so Leonard Cohen was going to have to do. It's been a while since I broke out Hallelujah.

I had the entire room silenced. And the teacher stood with her jaw on the floor, "That was beautiful. Your range is incredible."

"Thanks," I sat back down, fully aware that I let them know I wasn't just a pretty face.

As the class went on, I didn't hear squat about anything that went on at the cemetery. That was fruitless. Oh, well. Maybe next class? Hopefully next class would have some of the more gossipy types in it. According to my schedule, my next class was a US history class.

I had a brain for dates. I'd be golden. Granted, I wasn't out to get perfect marks here, but it didn't hurt to impress the teacher. When I got into class, I took a seat in the back left corner and made myself comfortable. This case was wearing me out more than what I wanted it to.

"Good morning, class," a voice thundered. A very familiar voice that made me roll my eyes...Oh, God, "My name is Mr. Cash. I'll be your substitute teacher for the day. Now, today, we're going to be talking local history. So, anybody? Anybody got a story? I'm not from here, so I don't know much for local history."

"Then, why are you teaching us?" some whiny bitch chimed in.

"It's just what your teacher had written down," he pointed out while I laid my head on my desk, "Anyone? Anyone at all? How about the young lady in the back trying to take a nap?"

Oh, I hate you, Dean Winchester...I am stabbing you repeatedly in my mind.

"I'm not local either," I groaned, half asleep already, "I just moved to town, man."

"Where you from then?" Dean had a smug little grin on his face. That twisted son of a bitch was enjoying this.

"South Dakota," I laid my head back down.

"Well then," he told me, "Tell us something about your hometown in South Dakota."

"You really want me to?" I fought back, "There's a story about this couple that died in a house fire and the only one to survive was their six-month-old daughter. Rumor has it, they made a deal with a demon. This happened quite some time ago. That six-month-old baby would be our age by now."

"No way," someone scoffed, while Dean tucked his tail between his legs, fully aware of the truth. I knew that would get him to leave me alone.

"Don't blame me, dude," I played with my aegerine around my neck, "It's a local legend. I'm not the one that came up with it."

"Do you believe it?" Dean asked, taking a more serious tone than he had before.

"Of course not," I glared at him, "That'd be crazy. Demons don't exist. I know better."

"Good," he still looked pretty worried about me, but I just wanted to go back to sleep, "Anybody else? Anybody, anybody?"

Silence. Even the crickets wouldn't say anything. Fortunately, before anything else could be said, the bell had rung and if I could, I would've snuck outside for a cigarette. But unfortunately, I only had five minutes between classes.

"Excuse me, Miss Winchester," Dean stopped me, "Could I see you for a minute?"

As soon as the room emptied out, I sat on the edge of the desk, "What do you want, Dean?"

"You got anything yet?" he wondered.

"I got nothing," I shrugged, "Sorry, sweetie. I hate you, by the way."

"I love you, too, Lena," Dean chuckled, brushing me off.

"This isn't over," I shoved my finger in his chest, "We're having words later. But until then, I have to get to English."

"You speak English just fine," he teased.

"I hate you, Dean," I flipped him off on the way out.

"Love you, too, Lena!"

Maybe English would prove to be better than US history. At least I wouldn't have a teacher to pick on me. Or maybe I would. Not quite as relentless as my US history teacher, but I had a soft spot for my English teacher, too. Despite that twenty-four hours ago, he threatened to kill one of my vices, I still loved him.

Hold on...I looked closer at my schedule. I didn't just have an English class. Why did I have two little letters in front of English. Either Sam or Dean picked my classes for me. Granted, I was always good in English, no matter where I was going to school, but how in the hell did they manage to swing me into advanced placement?!

"Good morning, class," he greeted us, "My name is Mr. Sambora. I'll be your sub today. Can anyone tell me what we're reading?"

"We've been studying folklore lately," some guy told him.

"And which legend have you been discussing?"

"We just finished one," he went on, "We were supposed to start a new one today."

"We could always talk about Annie," the guy sitting next to me suggested.

"Annie?" Sam perked up, "Who's Annie?"

"She's buried in Elmwood Cemetery," he began, "She's been causing some trouble lately, from what I understand."

"No, she hasn't," one of the other boys made fun of him, "What you saw were two squirrels going at it."

"I know what I saw!" the guy next to me grew a pair, "I saw a little girl with her violin!"

"You're delusional," they were quick to write him off. Was this the guy that made the forum post?

"You know what?" Sam broke them up, "Why don't we just watch a movie instead?"

The class settled down, but Dean's words from this morning echoed in my head. He did tell me to make friends and not get expelled. I tapped the guy on his shoulder, "Hey..."

"What?" the guy kind of shook me off.

"I don't think you're delusional," I assured, turning on my innocent charms, "Tell me more."

"Could I start with my name?" he fell for me hook, line, and sinker.

"Shoot."

"I'm Xander," he introduced himself, warming up to me quick.

"Lena," I reciprocated. He actually seemed sweet himself. Sure, I was putting on an act, but he seemed like the genuine article, "I'm new in town and I love a good ghost story. What were you saying about Annie?"

"If you go to the Elmwood Cemetery late at night," Xander told, "She'll play for you. She died awfully young, though. Eleven, I think. She got diphtheria and modern medicine wasn't quite as advanced as it is today."

"Such a shame," I awed, "Then again, I could've died young, too."

"Are you going to visit her?" he wondered.

"I don't know," I shrugged, "I might."

"If you do go visit Annie," Xander suggested, "Bring her a present. She likes soft things. She's not exactly a vengeful spirit. She's a good girl. Annie just wants to play her song for you."

"I'll keep that in mind," I gave him a little smile.

"Hey, Lena," he spoke a little softer, "What are you doing after school?"

Uh-oh...Plans are backfiring. Plans are backfiring big time. Abort mission. Abort mission. He mistook my being nice as me flirting. Not good. Come on, Lena. Shake him, "I'm working after school."

"Where do you work?" Damn! He's sticking! I had to relax. I can't let him in. He can't be onto me already, can he?

"I work for a private cleaning business," I lied smoothly.

"When do you get off?" He's really a clinger, isn't he?

"Why do you ask?" Good, Lena. Answer his question with a question. Maybe that'll be enough to throw him off.

"Would it be ok if I showed you around town?" Xander offered, "Maybe we could go visit Annie together."

"I'll think about it," I might as well. A little harmless flirting never killed anyone.

"Here," Xander took my hand and wrote his number in the palm of my hand, "Call me when you get off work and we can hang out then, ok?"

"Ok."

Ring!

Thank God, "It was nice meeting you, Lena."

"See you later."

That was excruicating. I've been with the boys so long that fake flirting has almost become second nature to me. Whether it was for information or to get the boys out of something unsettling, I got pretty good at working the con. But this? This almost seemed...real. Like, actual feelings and all that. I didn't like it and I wanted something to make me numb.

Finally, lunch time had rolled around. And the school had an open campus. I walked down the road a little way before a beautiful Impala pulled up next to me and one of my new teachers stuck their head out the window, "Hey, little girl. You want some candy?"

"If you have to ask me how much, boys," I teased, getting in the back, "You can't afford me."

"You're priceless, sweetheart," Dean took off.

"Flattered," I awed, "So, what do we know?"

"I got nothing."

"What was with the guy in our class?" Sam wondered, "Annie?"

"She's buried in the Elmwood Cemetery," I repeated, "She died young."

"I saw that," he said, "I did a little research. Diphtheria."

"Isn't that what you always die from in Oregon Trail?" Dean assumed.

"No," I rolled my eyes, "That's dysentery, you moron. There's a big difference between a nose and throat infection and literally crapping your brains out. God, it's a good thing you're pretty."

"You know how to paint a pretty picture, Lena," Dean cringed, "So, do you still hate me?"

"You've upgraded to strong dislike," I updated him.

"But Lena," Sam broke us up, "That kid in class you were talking to..."

"What about him?"

"He knew something," he assumed, "Didn't he?"

"He wants to know me," I bit my tongue, regretting everything already.

"So, what?" Dean asked, "You go in there looking for information and you come out of it with a date?"

I flashed him the inside of my left palm, "I scored his number. And now, I hate both of you."

"Maybe we could make this work in our favor," he suggested, "Lena, are you cool with that?"

"I just want this to be over with," I pouted in the back seat, "The sooner we can close this case, the sooner we can get back to the bunker and the sooner we can find the asshat demon my parents made their deal with and kill it."

We had been in this town for a day and I already wanted to leave. I could tell it was one of those places where athletics mattered more than academics. If one wasn't involved in at least two sports and an after school club, they were scum. And the student athletes walked around with a god complex and were collectively dumber than the inside of my boot.

As the final bell rang, we got back to our hotel to completely regroup. For the first time in months, I was actually overloaded with homework again. Did not miss that. Although, walking the halls of the high school made me a tad nostalgic. When I was still living in Hartford, my usual after school activities consisted of sitting in the mini mall parking lot with the guys. I missed that...

Once night fell over Central City, it was finally time to see if the rumors were true. I finished my last cigarette and the three of us headed to Elmwood Cemetery. When we got there, a big statue of a long haired little girl marked her grave. And we sat, waiting for something to happen. It's not like could do anything else.

Beep!

"Who's that?" Dean asked, looking into the back seat.

"It's a text from Xander," I told him, checking my phone.

 _Are you still at work?_

"The kid from class?" Sam assumed.

"Yeah," I texted him back.

 _Still at work._

"Hold on," Dean shut us up, "You hear that?"

"Hear what?" Sam listened closer.

The faint sound of a violin meshed with the wind blowing through the trees. A soft concerto that send chills through my body. This must have been what Xander was telling me about. If Annie was here, she'd play her violin. But according to Xander, Annie wasn't vengeful. She wasn't hostile. She was just a little girl that wanted to play her song.

"Well, it's go time, kids," Dean got out of the car, "Let's go light her up."

"No," I stopped him, "It's not her causing problems. Have you never tried being nice to a spirit? After all, she is just a little girl."

"Being nice to a spirit?" he gave me a look like I was on drugs, "We've been at this a lot of years, Lena, but that's got to be the strangest thing I've ever heard."

"And how do you know it's not her?" Sam shared his brother's sentiment.

"The forum post," I pointed out, "It was written by a couple of high school boys. They're idiots. Just trust me. I think I know what I'm doing. Let me have a crack at this."

"The minute it turns sideways," Dean worried.

"I'm out of there," I promised, "And you two can take care of it."

"Ok, Lena," Sam allowed, "Go ahead."

I popped the trunk and grabbed my blanket. Xander did say to bring her a present. Annie liked soft things. And by the looks of her grave, I wasn't the only one that brought her presents. Stuffed animals, pillows, all kinds of soft things around her grave. That's actually kind of endearing. I'm sure these were all from people who heard the stories and came to pay their respects. And now, I was going to add to that rich tapestry.

The temperature around her grave dropped at least ten degrees and a little girl with long, dark hair and big doll eyes in a white lacy dress popped up out of nowhere with nothing in her hands but a violin and her bow. This could only mean one thing. She looked me over with an extreme mistrust. This must be her.

"Hi, Annie," I spoke softly to her, "I'd love to hear you play."

The little girl raised her violin up to her chin and ran her bow across the strings, continuing the concerto she had started before. Such a shame she was taken so young. If she was this good in the afterlife, God only knows how well she could've played if she would've kept up her lessons and had the opportunity to continue her career. I'm sure Annie would still be legendary. When she finished her song, she curtseyed to me.

"Thank you," I bowed back, "That was very nice. I have to go now, but I want you to be a good girl for me, ok?"

Annie gave me one solemn nod.

"Now," I unfolded the blanket in my arm and covered her grave, "It's time for bed, Annie. Good night, sweetheart."

And just like that, she disappeared into the night. I had a way with words. What can I say? And little kids seem to love me for some reason. Sam and Dean came up behind me, "What the hell was that?"

"Like I said," I repeated myself, "She's just a little girl, boys. I put her to bed."

"So," Dean assumed, "We came here for no reason?"

"I wouldn't say that," I got back in the car, "We learned we can play nice with spirits and they'll play nice back. We don't always have to torch the body."

"Stranger things have happened, I guess," Sam brushed it off.

Beep!

Xander again? I took my phone out of my pocket. Sure enough, I had gotten another text from him, "Uh, guys...?"

"Go ahead," Dean let me go, "Go on your date. You know where we'll be. Call if you need anything."

"Ok."

 _Meet at the diner?_

Beep.

 _On my way._

Sam and Dean dropped me off at the diner up the road and the only place left in town open at eleven o'clock at night. I made myself comfortable in a booth and waited for Xander to show up. This whole night has been weird and I just needed a little bit of normalcy for a change.

"I see you," Xander came up behind me.

"I see you, too," I giggled a bit.

"Are you ok?" he wondered, "You look a little off."

"Rude," I jabbed, "No. I'm fine. It's just been a long night."

"Can I be honest with you for a minute, Lena?" Xander asked.

"Go ahead."

"Well," he took my hand, "I kind of like you. Like…I really like you."

Dude…We just met today. How in the hell can you already like me so much? That's not creepy, "Really?"

"Oh yeah," he nodded, "When you treated me like a normal human being when I was talking about Annie in class today, that's when I knew I liked you. You seem so sweet and I'd love to get to know you more."

"Trust me," I brushed him off, my bitter cynicism taking over, "There's not much to me."

"Don't say that," Xander chastised me a little, "I think you're important."

Again…Just met, "Why do you say that?"

"You were all I needed to draw out the Winchesters," his eyes flashed black, "And one little ghost story was all it took. Probably shouldn't have come here alone, Lena."

 **A/N: *dundundunnnn* That's right, kids. We're cutting it off here for the day. And next week, we're going to have a very bad romance, if I do say so myself. Now, fun fact! The story of Annie is actually true! There was a little girl in the late 1800s named Annie who is buried in Central City. It's probably my favorite ghost story, so I just wanted to do a little local legend. Why not? I highly suggest doing some research of your own. It's pretty neat. People say you can see her statue glowing on Halloween and the sound of a violin playing in the distance.**

 **And the high school that Lena and the boys are? My high school. I can't tell you how many times I zoned out in class, hoping Sam and Dean would come and get me the hell out of there...The layout is accurate. The English department and the history department were upstairs. The band room was actually just off the cafeteria. The main office is on the right when you first walk in. And they do value athletics more than academics and you're nothing if you're not involved in extra curriculars. Even more so when you're not born and raised there like a certain someone we know…*whispering* That's me…See you next chapter. xx**


	15. True Love Learns Latin

Again? Come on, Lena. This has lost its novelty. The first time, ok. I get it. I never worked a case a day in my life. That's understandable. The second time? I should've been more on my guard. This? This stopped being scary and started being annoying. Why? Why does this have to happen to me?

Nevertheless, I had to get my bearings. Everything looked like it had been burned down and abandoned for years. Warehouse maybe? And I'm tied up to a chair, too. Alright. A little cliche for my taste, but I'll let that slide. Now, what was I doing beforehand? Sitting at the diner with that Xander kid that said he liked me and...That's right.

"I'm glad to see you're awake, Lena," a voice broke the silence.

"Xander," I wiggled around a little, trying to reach the knot holding my hands together, "You're a demon?"

"Oh, yeah," Xander cradled my cheek in his hand, "I'm definitely a demon. And I could smell your deliciously raging hormones from a mile away. Yum."

"Ok, gross," I cringed, "Why am I here? And where is here?"

"You mean, you don't recognize this place?" he asked, almost sounding disappointed, "Guess where we are and if you're right, I'll let you go."

"Um," I thought it over carefully, going along the lines of my warehouse theory, "On the outskirts of Central City?"

"Sorry," Xander winced sarcastically, "No. We're not in Central City anymore. We're not even in Illinois anymore. Actualy, we're somewhere you've been a million times before."

"What do you mean?" I gave him a look. This guy was nuts. You should know better, Lena. All the cute ones are a little crazy. You travel around with two prime examples of that.

"This used to be your old nursery, Lena," he confessed, "It's cozy. Too bad you've never seen what it looked like when it wasn't a pile of ash. I'm sure your mom was quite a decorator."

"What...?" I could hardly speak. There's no way this was the old house in Hartford. I swore that place was completely in ruins.

"That's right," Xander confirmed, "You lived here for the first six months of your life. Right down to the minute. You were born at night, right?"

"Yeah," I think that's what my birth certificate said.

"Yep," he checked his watch, "Right down to the minute. Welcome home, princess."

"You don't get to call me that," I growled at him, getting flashbacks to the only warm, fuzzy memories I had with my parents. Granted, they were projections made by a djinn, but they felt real enough to me. Only my dad could call me princess. Or Dean, if I'm in the right mood.

"I can call you whatever I want to," Xander poked my nose, "I could call you bitch if I so choose."

"Can I ask you something?" I settled down, ignoring that bitch comment.

"We got some time to kill," he shrugged, "Sure. Ask away."

"How long have you been a demon?" I found a loose spot in the rope.

"A couple hundred years," Xander did the math in his head, "The meat suit, though? He's been around for about sixteen of those couple hundred. He seemed enough like your type. Into the paranormal, approachable, kind of looks like he plays Dungeons and Dragons in his mom's basement, idea of a perfect date is watching Lord of the Rings from beginning to end. That kind of thing."

"You don't know what my type is," I scoffed, "And you do know that I have ties to Crowley, right? We're buddies. Isn't he your big, bad boss or whatever?"

"Ha...Haha...Hahahaha!" he started rolling, "I like you, Lena. You're funny. No. You think I answer to an insignificant little piss ant like Crowley? Please. I answer to a much higher power than him. My boss can make Crowley his bitch if he wanted to. But you know what? Since you put me in such a good mood, I'm going to tell you a story."

"What if I just want to get out of here?" I slipped my finger in the knot. That was practically lesson number one when Dean and I started training. He put me in military grade knots and told me to get out. My personal best was four minutes.

"I can't do that," Xander shook his head, "I need you. You were supposed to die that night, you know. The night your house burned down and your parents died."

No. Was this guy...Was he the demon that killed my parents? No. There's no way things could be that simple, "What do you mean, I was supposed to die?"

"The three of you were going to burn together," he went on, "That was the deal. But somehow, you were protected. I don't get it, Lena. You're not special. You don't have any sort of supernatural powers. The only slightly extraordinary thing about you is that you pal around with the Winchesters. How in the hell were you spared the night of the fire?"

"I guess I got friends in high places," I shrugged, remembering back to what the nuns told me. Maybe I did have an angel watching over me. I knew I did now. His name is Castiel. He wears a trenchcoat and makes a hell of a drink.

"You do have angel stink all over you," Xander sniffed me, nearly gagging on it, "But that's not what saved you. Maybe it's that pretty crystal around your neck."

"You don't touch that," I glared a hole through him, "That's a family heirloom."

"I can't," he rolled his eyes, "Trust me. I tried. Do you know how big of a bounty there is on your head?"

"There's a bounty on my head?" I might not have been special, but somebody wanted me enough.

"It's big, too," Xander grinned, "Like, second in command over all of Hell, big. Big enough to overthrow Crowley big."

"Why are you doing this?" I softened up, hoping that if I play weak and defenseless, he'll drop his guard, "Why couldn't you have just been the nice guy I met in AP English?"

"Because I like power," Xander smirked, "Do I really have to spell that out for you?"

"And you think I'm going to go so willingly?" I assumed, hearing soft footsteps from down the hall.

"That's the beauty of all of this," he kissed my cheek, "You don't have to be willing at all. I can just take you right now, drop you, and collect my bounty. That's all it takes."

"Ahem," a man stood in the doorway. That wasn't Sam and that wasn't Dean, "I wouldn't say she only has friends in high places. Let's say she has acquaintances in low ones, too. I heard your name drop, Lena, and thought I'd come see what the fuss was about. Now, what's this I hear of a coup, Xander?"

Xander froze in his place, terrified out of his mind. I knew who my unexpected savior was. And this was the second time he's saved me, "Your highness..."

"I'm listening," Crowley stood patiently, knocking Xander down to his knees, "Did I hear someone wanting to step into upper management?"

"It's not like that, sir," Xander's cocky attitude dropped real quick as soon as the boss got here. No balls. No spine. Not my type.

"Please," Crowley insisted, shoving his foot in his underling's back, "Do clarify for me. Let's say, hypothetically, someone was planning to overthrow me, which sorry excuse for a demon would be leading the charge?"

"There are dark whispers," Xander cringed, "of his return."

"Him?" Crowley started to go pale, "Not him, him..."

"Lena," another familiar voice spoke softly in my ear, "Are you alright?"

"Cas, my hero," I sighed out, "Yeah, I'm ok. Where are Sam and Dean?"

"They're waiting outside," Cas assured, "Don't worry. Are you sure he didn't hurt you? Didn't try possessing you?"

"I'm sure," I giggled a little bit, "My god, Cas. You sound like a worried mother."

"Someone has to be," I managed to get a smile out of him, "Although, I don't think Sam or Dean has gotten any sleep since you went missing."

"And how long have I been missing?" I didn't think it'd be that long.

"Three days," Cas untied the knots for me, "It hasn't been pretty."

"Lena dear," Crowley called for me, "How's your Latin? I'm sure Moose and Squirrel have taught you something."

"Moose and Squirrel?" I looked to Cas for clarification.

"Oh, come on," Crowley rolled his eyes, "You've been with those two for how long and you don't know my affectionate nicknames for them?"

"Sorry," I shrugged, shaking the ropes off me, "I guess not."

"So, I ask again," he reiterated, "How's your Latin?"

"Good enough." One of my first few days in the bunker, Sam taught me the most basic of exorcisms.

"Wonderful," Crowley chirped, pushing his foot into Xander some more, making him cry out in sweet agony, "Be a love and exorcise this one. I'll deal with him later, but for the sake of my own safety, wait until I'm out of the room."

"And the vessel?" I worried, "What will happen to whoever he's in?"

"He'll be fine," Cas promised, "I'll be sure to heal him as soon as the demon's been expelled from his body."

"Alright," I nodded, "You might want to wait outside. This could hurt a bit."

"Noted," Crowley gave Xander one last kick to the ribs.

"Dude!" I squeaked.

"What?" he brushed me off, "Cas is healing him anyway."

"You can't heal him if he's dead," I scolded, "Outside."

I can't believe I just mom voiced the king of Hell. I can't believe I know the king of Hell. I can't believe I was just saved by the king of Hell. Stranger things have happened, I guess. Cas and Crowley left me alone with Xander and I thought back to what Sam taught me. Latin was kind of a mouthful for me, but it was the birth of most languages, so it wasn't too difficult to pick up.

"Lena," Xander's raspy voice begged, "Please don't do this. Do you know what Crowley's going to do to me?"

"You mean that insignificant little piss ant?" I threw his words back in his face, "That's not my problem. Before I exorcise you, who were you two talking about?"

"I can't say his name," he quivered, "He'll hear me."

"Alright then," I brushed him off, "Suit yourself. Exorcizamus te, omins immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica..."

As I continued with the incantation, Xander writhed at the words that rolled off my tongue. Once audi nos came out, a cloud of black smoke shot out of his vessel's mouth. Cas instantly got to healing him and the guy started to come to a little more, "Where am I?"

"Hey," I propped his head up on my thigh, "Hi. Are you ok?"

"Who are you?" the guy freaked. Understandable.

"My name is Lena," I settled him, "You were just possessed by a demon for I don't know how long."

"About a week," Cas figured.

"And this is Cas," I introduced him, "He doesn't have much for people skills. Can you tell me your name?"

"A demon?!" Logical reaction. Good. He is back to being human.

"Unfortunately," I took his hand, "Your name, sweetie. That's all I need you to tell me."

"Scott," he tried to get his head back, "There was an honest to God demon in me?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "But I need you to try and relax, Scott, or you're going to work yourself up into a panic attack and I'm a little too fuzzy myself to deal with that sort of thing right now. You don't need to worry, though. My brothers and I take care of these kinds of things. You're going to be alright."

"Thank you, Lena," Scott hugged me tight, catching me completely off guard.

"And that's why we do it," I gave him an awkward pat on the back, "We should probably get you on a bus back to Central City, yeah?"

"Where are we?" he wondered.

"Hartford, South Dakota," I filled him in, "Do you remember anything from when you were possessed?"

"Not really," Scott shook his head, "I'm sorry."

"Honey, you were the one possessed," I chuckled, "You don't need to apologize for anything."

"I didn't hurt you, did I...?"

"No," I felt for the guy. I really did, "And if Xander would've hurt me, that would've been his fault, not yours. Don't blame yourself. You're going to be alright, Scott. I promise."

"How do we know he's not going to come back?" Scott worried.

"Because he knows better than to screw with a Winchester," I assured him, "Come on. You need to get some sleep. I'm sure Xander's kept you up all hours of the night and you're probably going to feel like a noodle when we finally stand up."

"Cooked or uncooked?" he got himself to laugh a bit.

"Very cooked," I figured, "Cas, help me out here."

"Sure," Cas helped me get Scott back onto his feet. I was too short to do much, but every bit helped, "Sam and Dean are waiting on you, Lena. We should probably be going."

"Good idea," I let Scott use me as a crutch on the way out.

"Is Xander back where he belongs?" Crowley asked, standing in the hall.

"Yep," I chirped, "He's hanging out in Hell again."

"And this was the kid he was riding shotgun in," he looked Scott over, "Sorry about that. Hard to keep the children in line."

"Hey, Scott," I took his arm off me, "There's a couple of guys outside. Just get in the car. We'll be out in a second."

"Ok," Scott nodded, "And uh, Lena..."

"What?"

Scott kissed my cheek, "Thank you. Again."

"All in a day's work," I let him go and Scott headed outside.

"Oh, young love," Crowley awed, making me want to roll my eyes.

"Shut up," I grumbled, "Now, which one of you four actually found me."

"Like I said," Crowley reminded me, "I heard you name drop me. I was interested."

Just as Scott did with me, I threw my arms around the king of Hell, "Thank you, Crowley. I never thought I'd ever say that, but thank you."

"Uh..." He wasn't sure what to do. I don't think Crowley had ever gotten the hero title before, "Gross. But you're welcome?"

"I think she's expressing gratitude," Cas assumed, almost as puzzled as he was.

"Ten points to Hufflepuff," I praised, letting go, "By the way, Crowley, can I ask you something that's been kind of burning a hole in my head for a while?"

"Sure," Crowley allowed, "What's on your mind?"

"What's a Hufflepuff?"

"Do you know who made the deal with my parents?" I asked flatly.

"I do," he nodded, "However, I can't tell you. That's classified information."

"Of course it is," I sighed out, "Oh well. Guess we have to find them the old-fashioned way."

"Beating it out of another demon?" Crowley figured.

"Maybe."

"Oh, I like you," he grinned.

"Lena!" Sam threw his arms around me.

"Hi, Sam," I tried to peel him off me, but that wasn't happening. He was stronger than me.

"Are you ok?" Dean took me away from him.

"I'm fine," I promised, "Just a little tired. Although, I did learn a little something, something from this whole ordeal."

"Do tell," he pinned me against his chest, never wanting to let me go.

"One night stands from here on out," I joked, "Screw the whole date thing. Wham, bam, thank you, ma'am is so much simpler."

"That's my girl," Dean chuckled, bringing music to my ears, "So, Lena, I think you've earned it. Drink?"

"Hell yes," I jumped in the backseat of the Impala where Scott had already passed out. Good night, sweet prince. We dropped him off at the motel and headed for the only bar in Hartford worth going to.

"Hey, Lena," Sam reached into his pocket, throwing a box on the bar, "I'm going to hate myself for doing this, but after the past few days you've had, I'm sure you could probably use one of those."

"Bless you, Sam Winchester," I took the pack of Marlboro lights off the bar and kissed my brother's cheek, "You're an actual angel. Let no one tell you different. You think I could bum a lighter?"

"Sure," Dean slid me his Zippo, "I want that back."

"You'll get it back," I jumped down from my barstool and went outside. Hello, sweet vices. For the first time in a week, I lit up a cigarette and felt it all the way to my soul. I feel better already. I leaned up against the wall and let the nicotine do the rest.

"Hey, Lena."

"Jesus!" I jumped, only to find the world's greatest social worker standing next to me, "Hey, Chuck. Stalking me, are we?"

"No," he assured, "I'm not stalking. Just in town. You look like you've seen better days. You alright?"

"Rude," I giggled, "I'm sorry. That's delirium. My sleep in the past few days has been kind of sketch, but I'm good."

"Promise me you'll take better care of yourself," Chuck begged, "You only get one body in your lifetime. It needs to be taken care of."

"Thanks, Chuck," I giggled, "You sound like a fortune cookie. But yes. I'll take a little better care of myself. As much as I can anyway."

"But how have you been?" he asked, "Keeping busy?"

"Working hard," I blew a cloud of smoke out of my mouth, "Taking care of my boys. Making sure they don't do something stupid."

"Good for you," Chuck gave me a pat on the back, "It's good to see you're doing better than you were at the orphanage."

"Can I ask you something, Chuck?" I began, "Why do you care so much about me?"

"I like you, Lena," he answered simply, "You're a good girl that didn't deserve the bad that's happened to her. But with the bad came the new good and the family you always wanted, so it can't all bad, right?"

"I guess not," I finished my cigarette, "Maybe fate brought us together for a reason. If you believe in that sort of thing."

"Or maybe you just have friends in high places."

"What?" But when I looked to find him, Chuck was gone. Like he disappeared into thin air. There's something more than meets the eye with that guy. But for now, I'm going to write it off and go have a drink with my brothers, their angel, and the king of Hell…What is my life?

 **A/N: Hi, guys! This was essentially the end of last week's chapter, just nicely fleshed out a little more. Also, I love nonthreatening Crowley. He's so cute. But we're about to see a little bit of a monkey wrench thrown into things. I promise it'll make more sense in the next few weeks. See you next chapter! xx**


	16. Devil's Trap Remember a Devil's Trap

One of these days, I'm going to have to make a needlepoint of 'bunker sweet bunker'. Although, this place really did feel like home. It was more than just four heavily reinforced and heavily warded walls and a rolling hill over our heads. For inside lived two hunters, a fallen angel, and a lost little orphan. And together, they made a hell of a team. But even more importantly, they were a family. Not exactly the most orthodox family, but a family nonetheless. At the end of the day, I knew damn well that any of those boys would guard me with their lives...As much as that thought gave me a slight comfort, it terrified the hell out of me all the same.

"You doing ok, Lena?" Sam nudged me out of my soliloquy.

"Yeah," I shook him off, taking one of the seats at the war table in the main room of the bunker, "So, what do we do now?"

"Do you have any idea why a demon would be after you?" Cas asked, just as worried as my brothers.

"Did whatshisname say anything to you?" Dean wondered.

That was the thing about this family in particular. It was full of martyrs. Either Sam or Dean or, hell, even Cas would be more than willing to fight a crusade in my name. I did love these boys like they were my own blood. I'm sure Uncle Bobby thought of them the same way. But they'd set themselves on fire just to keep any of the others warm. Although a commendable trait, it's a stupid one.

I could hear Xander's voice...or Scott's voice in the back of my head, screaming at me. You were supposed to die that night. Do you know what kind of bounty is on your head? His words echoed in my head, nearly bringing me to the brink of madness. But I don't want my boys getting seriously hurt in a fight that's not theirs, "No idea. Xander never told me anything other than the usual taunts."

"Why would he have brought you back to Hartford, though?" Sam thought it over, trying to piece everything together in his head.

"Right now," Dean decided, "We snipe them before they have the chance to snipe us. Cas, let us know if you hear anything. Like, the second you know, we know, got it?"

"Yeah," Cas nodded, "I'll keep you posted."

And just like that, our favorite little angel blipped out of the room in the way that only he could. And it made Dean kind of adorably pouty, "Would it kill him to say goodbye? Just once?"

"You sound like an angry housewife," I giggled.

"I do not," Dean scoffed, "Can we get back to this, please? We have a case at hand here. Not our first time tangling with demons being tied to one of us. We can do this again."

"When was the first time?" I worried, completely clueless to the kind of life these boys had before I was dropped in their laps.

"Well," Dean cringed, "Not exactly our proudest moments. Not truly part of the family until you've played with a demon. I've sold my soul. Our dad sold his soul. Sam was doing a demon that kept him blood drunk for a while."

"Dean," Sam gave him bitch face, "We don't talk about Ruby."

"Her name was Ruby?" I teased, "Sweetie, I knew all about Ruby. I've read all about Ruby...Those are some grade A smut chapters. Hell, they even made me blush."

"We need to burn the Supernatural books," he put his foot down, "Every single copy to ever exist. Lena, you need to cook up a super virus to kill the digital copies."

"I don't think so," I grinned, "Not that something like that is outside my skillset, but I'm just not going to do it. They're not horrible books."

"They need to be burned..."

"How many of them have you read?" Dean wondered.

"All of them," I chirped.

"Again," he whined, "We have a case to work here. We don't know when another demon's going to pop up and try to take Lena away again."

"I think it's safe to say no more undercover jobs like that again," Sam assumed, "This might be pushing it, but do you think Crowley knows anything?"

"Pushing it even further," Dean thought, "Would he tell us?"

"You two were buddies for a while," Sam pointed out.

"I think the word he used was besties," he shivered, "We were damn near thinking about matching tattoos besties. In my defense, though, we were pretty plastered on a regular basis."

"How in the hell do you still have a liver, Dean Winchester?" I chuckled a little.

"A freakin' miracle," he laughed with me.

"You don't think Crowley would've sent the demon after me, do you?" I asked, starting to sweat a little.

"No," Sam promised.

"Crowley might be dumb," Dean agreed, "But he doesn't have a death wish."

"So," Sam continued, "A demon gone rogue?"

"That's what it's looking like," Dean cracked a beer on the side of the table with nothing but class.

"Well, boys," I got up, "This was fun, but I think I'm going to go to bed, if that's alright with you."

"And if it's not?" Always the smartass, aren't you, Dean?

"Then, you get to deal with my sleep deprived, bitchy ass later," I smirked, "Nighty night."

"Night, Lena," Sam sent me off, just as afraid of me on no sleep as Dean was. Little did they know, I was nowhere near tired.

Physically speaking, yes. I was exhausted. That's to be expected. I just had a demon go all Fifty Shades on me in my ash covered nursery. As far as weird kinks go, that's probably the strangest I've seen. And I've been in some very dark corners of the internet. But I was too tired to sleep, if that makes any sense. Of course it doesn't, but that's what I had my friend Jack for.

Not the first time I've gotten sticky fingers in a liquor cabinet. The first time I ever got really drunk, I stole communion wine from the basement of the orphanage and killed a bottle by myself. After that, because they were all such good influences, one of the boys in the band always made sure my flask was full. I never got to take any of Uncle Bobby's booze. Something tells me he would've took me out back behind the woodshed if I took any of his whiskey. Although, when I made Aunt Karen's apple pie, I learned quickly that I'd have a taste for bourbon.

I pulled my bottle of whiskey I stole from Dean (His stash was well-stocked. He's not going to miss it.) out from under my bed and took a couple shots. The warmth hit me in my stomach and all the way down to my toes. Just enough to pull me under. It's not like I had a drinking problem. Besides, I'd need my sleep. I'd be getting up early in the morning.

There's no way in hell those two would ever let me go out on my own. And like I said, this wasn't their fight. I peeked in Sam's room, then in Dean's next door. Both of them were sleeping like babies. Good. And Cas was on the hunt for demons that might know anything about me. So, the boys were thinking Crowley might know something, huh? I grabbed my bag, my knife, and my lighter and slipped out the bunker's front door.

And down to the crossroads to fall down on my knees. Insert a bluesy guitar solo here. Although, I never thought I'd be dropping to my knees for Crowley. Sure, he was adorable, but even I have limits. I threw one of my IDs in a hole and some graveyard dirt over the top of it and lit up a cigarette, waiting for the boss to show up.

"You know, you could've just called me," Crowley popped up, "I do have a cellphone. No need to bring the formalities into it. And haven't we learned from last time you did this?"

"I'm not here to strike a deal," I settled him, a little cloud of smoke billowing from my lips.

"Then, what do you want, Lena?" he grumbled, "I'm a busy man. Time is money."

"What do you know about the bounty on my head?" I got right to the point. With Crowley being such a busy man and all.

"There's a bounty on you?" Crowley gave me a look with a glint in his eye, "What kind of bounty?"

"Whoever is promising power," I explained, "Like...uber power."

"How?" he scoffed, "I have all the power in Hell. And I'm not stupid enough to put a bounty on you when you got Rocky and Bullwinkle as backup."

"Someone else must have more."

"There's only one," Crowley cringed, looking me over, "But what he'd want with you is beyond me."

"Who?"

"You don't want to know," he smirked, "But you just got a bit more interesting. If that'd be all, I have a thing to tend to. Before I go, the next time you'd like to have one of our little chats, you can call me. This is extra paperwork that I have to put one of mine through."

"So," I sighed out, "You really don't have anything to do with my bounty?"

"Sorry, Lena," Crowley shrugged, "It's not one of mine. Like I said, things to do, places to go, people to see, demons to fry."

I was starting to understand what Dean meant about the celestial beings in our lives not bothering to say goodbye before they poof out. Crowley did it. Cas did it. Sometimes, it sucked being a mortal human without any sweet superpowers like they had. But that would involve me becoming an angel, a demon, or end up in a lab accident. Not happening. Not today.

"Lena!" I heard Dean knocking on my bedroom door when I walked in, "Time to get up."

"You're knocking to an empty room, sweetie," I skipped down the steps, playing it off like I wasn't sneaking back in.

"Where were you?" Sam asked with great skepticism.

"I went out for a cigarette," I lied through my teeth. Good thing I had one earlier, "You guys don't want me smoking in the bunker."

"Ok..." he had a look in his eyes. Like he knew better.

"So!" I chimed like nothing ever happened, "What's on the agenda for the day? Another rousing adventure of excitement and peril?"

"Not exactly, short round," Dean chuckled to himself.

"Going demon beating," Sam threw his bag over his shoulder, "Caught wind of a couple of them in Nebraska. They probably know a thing or two about the demon that was after you. Care to join me?"

"It'd be my pleasure," I grinned, catching my bag, "Dean? You coming?"

"No," Dean shot me down, "I got a thing to work on here."

"Everybody's got a thing," I grumbled under my breath.

"We should be back in a couple days," Sam started up the stairs.

"Be careful!" Dean sent us off and my brother and I drove into the sunrise.

It felt weird leaving him behind. Dean didn't strike me as the type to turn something like this down. Fortunately, I had the one person in the entire world that knew him better than anyone else, "Hey, Sam?"

"What?"

"Why would Dean turn down smacking demons around?" I wondered, "That's like a dog not eating."

"Beating on demons can get tedious after a while," Sam pointed out, "When you've been doing it as long as what we have, it starts to lose its luster. And Dean's got other things going on, too. You're reading way too far into it, Lena. Sometimes we all need a break. Dean's got his ways of self-medicating and meditation."

"As long as he doesn't mix the salvia with the jimsonweed," I cringed, "Trust me. That's not a fun combination."

"I didn't think we had fairies in the bunker," he giggled a bit.

"I watched them brutally murder each other, Sam," I remembered, "They bled glitter!"

"How high were you?"

"Never mind that," I brushed him off, "But I still worry about him."

"We all do," Sam held my hand on the shifter, "But what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You didn't just go out for a cigarette this morning," Sam saw right through me, "I know that look, Lena. You looked like the cat that ate the canary. You were sneaking back in."

"No, I wasn't," I assured, "I was coming back in from a cigarette."

"You sure?" he still wasn't buying it.

"Positive."

"Alright," Sam let it go, fully aware there was something I wasn't telling him. I understood that they both worried about me, but I didn't want them to get involved. They didn't need to. This was my thing and my thing alone. If I needed them, I knew where to find them, but for now, they needed to back off on finding out about my bounty.

I could already rule out Crowley. He might be the King of Hell, but I felt like I could trust him. He genuinely had no idea about why I had a bounty on my head, nor did he know who put it there. It was a topsy turvy world I was living in, but what mattered was I was living. Now, I needed to find a demon and beat some answers out of them. And if the ones Sam and I were about to beat on didn't have any, at least I could blow off a little steam.

We pulled into the driveway of this abandoned house on the outskirts of Omaha with the night being our cover. Logically speaking, we probably should've checked into a hotel first and hit it in the morning after a good night's sleep, but I didn't feel like sticking around here for long. I needed some answers and I needed them now.

"Alright, Lena," Sam ran me through the check list, "Got your knife?"

"Yep."

"Got your holy water?"

"Yep," I nodded, "And I got pocket salt, too. I think I'm covered, Sammy. How many we got in there?"

"Just a couple," he figured, "That's all I can see anyway."

"Alright then," I chimed, lighting one more cigarette, "Let's do this."

"Guns blazing?"

"Is there any other way?" I was ready to kick some demon ass and take names. Almost immediately, I kicked the door open and found them both, shooting the breeze in the living room, "Hi, boys! Rumor has it, you're looking for me."

Of course, as predicted, they both jumped up and started fighting us. Every swing the demon on me threw, I managed to dodge beautifully. Only a couple of them actually connected, but I had enough resilience to bounce back quickly. It's a beautiful thing how my body works. Especially when his punch was so kindly returned tenfold. Just enough to knock him out.

When I was sure Sam wasn't looking, I dragged my demon off into the other room, tying him the same way Xander had me, but not quite as fetishy. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Xander, or should I say Xander's vessel, had the same raging hormones in his body that I had in mine. Only I knew how to control them a little better.

As soon as my demon came to again, he struggled a bit to get out of his bonds, but that wasn't happening. I could tie a hell of a knot, "Well, well. Good morning, sunshine."

"You bitch," he spit up a bunch of blood, "Let me out of here!"

"Oh, no, no, no," I shook my head, "Not quite yet. I have some things to ask you first. Do you have any idea who I am?"

"You smell like this baby we were after fifteen years ago," he grinned darkly, "You're the little girl with the big bounty."

"Who wants me," I threw another punch to his jaw, "and why?"

"You just started," he chuckled, "Didn't you?"

"What do you mean?" I glared through him, "Answer me!"

"This is cute," the pain in the ass demon taunted some more, "Like I'm going to tell my target who sent me. By the way, if you're going to interrogate a demon, you should probably have a little more than just ropes to hold me."

Not a split second went by before the demon smoked out of the vessel and scattered off. DAMMIT! Devil's trap...Should've drawn a devil's trap before I tied him up. At least he left instead of taking over my body. I don't think he could, though. The aegerine around my neck kept me safe. DAMMIT! I'm sure if I had him just a little longer, I would've been able to get some answers.

"Lena?" Sam found me, "They're gone."

"Yeah," I grumbled, "I noticed."

"You ok?" he worried.

"A little pissed off," I snapped, "But all in all, I think I'll be fine."

"Hold on," Sam took his flannel off and pressed it against my forehead, "That doesn't look good. Let's get you cleaned up and stitched up, ok?"

"Ok," I started to get a little lightheaded. I wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline crash or the blood loss, but my first steps felt like I was drunk.

"Easy there," he caught me, "You sure you're alright?"

"Positive," I assured, "I'm running on adrenaline, Sam. There's almost no pain, but I'm super dizzy."

"Come here," my brother scooped me up into his arms and I cuddled into his shoulder, "Next time, ok? We'll get them next time."

God, I hoped so. Because this was getting exhausting for not getting any results. And I needed results. I just wanted this all to be over.

 **A/N: Hi, guys! I feel like we don't have enough Sam in this story. When I first started watching Supernatural, I was definitely a Sam girl, but then…Well…I'm still a Sam girl, but Dean…Dean gives me anime style nosebleeds, too. And it's not like Dean to turn down hunting monsters. What could he possibly be up to…? Also, it looks like Lena might be a Winchester after all. Ready to take a bullet for the boys. Sick of them wanting to take a bullet for her. Isn't that what being a Winchester is all about? See you next chapter! xx**


	17. Balloons, Confetti, and Cops

Well, that trip to Omaha was pointless. Although, I had to admit punching a demon for a while was pretty satisfying. Even though he wouldn't tell me anything. Oh well. Back to the drawing board, I guess. Maybe I could try another summoning ritual when the boys turn their backs. Wait a sec. This wasn't the way back to the bunker.

"Where are we going?" I wondered.

"Making a quick side trip," Sam took a different exit.

"Again, I say," I rolled my eyes, "Where are we going?"

"Just a few hours north," he kept me in the dark.

"But there's nothing going on a few hours north," I pointed out, "Or is there and I'm not in the loop?"

"Have you been keeping an eye on the news?" Sam asked.

"It's too depressing," I chuckled darkly, "For the sake of my mental health, I actively avoid it."

"Set alerts on your phone," he suggested, "It's much easier."

"Will do," I gave him a half assed salute, "But I haven't seen anything."

"Look, Lena," Sam held my hand on the shifter, "You know we love you to death, right?"

"Yeah..." my good feeling turned into skepticism.

"This few hour trip north," he confessed, "There's only one place we'd go up here."

That's when I started to think things through a little. There was only one place we'd go. So, that's why Dean wouldn't come with us. He didn't want to say goodbye, but he was going to anyway. I thought I was making some really good strides in the hunting department.

"No," I freaked, "No! I'm not going back! You can't make me go back!"

"Lena," Sam pulled over, "Lena!"

"I knew you'd leave me eventually," I growled, riding out the storm, "Everybody else does. You know, Sam, you and Dean were the first ones to not give up on me. Yet, here you are. I always knew I was a lost cause, but you just confirmed my theory. I always knew people were temporary."

"Lena, no," he stopped me, holding me in his arms, "No, no, no. Dean and I aren't going anywhere. I can promise you that. We're not leaving you."

"Why else would we be going back toward Hartford then?" I snapped, "I'm a little old to be dropped off at the fire station."

"You're not being dropped off at the fire station," Sam promised, "We're not giving you the 'this is for your own good' speech. With everything that's going on, we don't want you out of our sight for long. I just thought you could use the road trip."

"Honey, our whole lives are a road trip," I started to settle down, "What are we really doing up here?"

"Because you can't let surprises be surprises," he giggled, "I got a call from your friend Luke. When you went out for a cigarette this morning, your phone rang and I answered it. He asked if I could bring you up here today."

"Why?" I gave him a look as we continued down the road.

"It's a secret."

"Whatever," I let it go. What the hell would Luke want me in Sioux Falls for? I mean, I know we haven't seen each other since Mel's funeral, but maybe he missed me. We did kind of date for a while. It was a more casual thing, but after six months, it got to be boring.

As we pulled into town, Sam pulled into the parking lot of one of the bars I hung out with my boys in. It was one of the nicer places in town, too. Whenever we had some sort of a celebration, it was always here. This was where we had Mel's baby shower and her bridal shower. Every birthday, every minor and major holiday, this was where we came. And to my surprise, my boys waited outside for me.

"Please tell me I'm not in town for another funeral," I got out of the car, "I don't think my heart can take something like that right now."

"Far from it," Brendon threw his arms around me, "Hey, baby."

"Hey," I hugged him tight, "How you doing, sweetie?"

"I've been better," he shrugged, "But I've also been worse. I'm getting there. Slowly but surely."

"One step at a time," I laid my head on his shoulder.

"Hey, Brendon," Sam gave him a nod, "Guys."

"Thanks for bringing her, Sam," Luke smiled, "You know why you're here, don't you, Lena?"

"No idea," I told him.

"Jesus, kid," Mark jabbed, "Have you not looked at a calendar lately?"

"All of my days run together."

"It's the twenty-seventh of April," he pointed out.

"It's your birthday, Lena," Brendon kissed my forehead, "Why do we need to break tradition?"

"It is...?" I thought for a minute, "It is!"

"Come on," Luke took my hand, "Come do a shot with us."

Brendon was right. Why should we break tradition? The boys might have had this extensive life of hunting and saving people before I came along, but I had a life before them, too. And with the crap that's about to go down...the demons hunting after me...A little dose of normalcy wouldn't be too bad. Especially with the family that loved me before my brothers did.

"So," I sat at the bar with Sam on my right and Brendon on my left, "Was this the secret?"

"Happy birthday, Lena," Sam threw his arm around me.

"Thanks, Sammy," I awed, "I wish Dean could be here, too."

"I got a call from him at our last gas stop," he said, "He sends his love."

"What about Cas?" I wondered, "Have you heard from him?"

"Nothing."

"Well," I sighed out, taking my shot of birthday cake flavored vodka, "No news is good news, right?"

"Lena," Luke nudged my shoulder, "Hide. 5-0."

"Dammit," I jumped down from my barstool and hid from whatever cops Sioux Falls had in here.

"Sam!" a woman's voice sang. That wasn't cops. That was the sheriff.

"Hey, Jody!" Sam greeted her with the same enthusiasm...and a hug? What the hell? There's something I didn't expect to see today, "How've you been?"

"Can't really complain," she chimed, "What are you doing in here all by yourself? Don't tell me you and Dean got into a hissy fight."

"No," he chuckled, "We're good. What about you? Off duty?"

"Yeah," she hummed, "Vacation actually. It's too quiet around here. But I'm guessing that since you and your brother are in town, that's about to change?"

"Dean's not here," Sam clarified, "But I'm not here alone either."

"Cas then?" Who the hell was this? And how much did she know? I felt a great disturbance in the force, "You need a hand?"

"There's nothing going on, Jody," Sam promised, "Everything's fine."

"So, then, what's new?" she sat with my brother, "I feel like I haven't heard from you two in ages."

"Well," he shot me a quick wink, "We picked up a stray a few months back. We were working a case up in..."

"Hartford?" she assumed, "The orphanage fire, I'm guessing?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded.

"I heard about that...Sad, sad. There was a girl that lived there." Here we go, "She was a repeat offender down here. I always had to be the one to pick her up for underage smoking and drinking and the occasional pickpocketing. She was a good girl. I always thought that with a little guidance and a prayer, she'd straighten up. Such a shame she won't even get the opportunity."

"Um..." I had a feeling I knew exactly who she was talking about and I could feel Sam's disappointment from here, "Hey, Sheriff Mills..."

"Lena?" she gasped, "Aren't you a little young to be in here?"

"Technically," I defended, "I'm here with my legal guardian. It's perfectly cool."

"Technically," Sam corrected, "You're dead, Lena."

In a shocking turn of events, Sheriff Mills pulled me against her chest in the hardest hug I've ever had in my life. And that's including Sam and Dean, "Damn, it's good to see you alive, sweetheart."

"So," Sam broke us up, "I'm guessing you know her, Jody?"

"You know Sheriff Mills?" I shot a weird look at my brother.

"Oh, no…" she cringed, "Lena's the stray?"

"Yeah," Sam confirmed, "But she's our stray."

"Sam," Sheriff Mills brought out her mom voice. With the amount of monsters that the boys and I have kicked the crap out of over these last few months, nothing scared me more than Sheriff Mills' mom voice, "What burned down the orphanage?"

"One of the nuns made a deal with a demon," Sam explained, keeping his voice down, "Fortunately, Lena wasn't there that night."

"Guess my sneaking out paid off," I giggled with a smug little grin on my face.

"Alright, smartass," she popped me in the shoulder, "Consider the I told you so received. Does this mean you're hunting now, Lena?"

"Those demons were after me," I told her, "And they're still after me. You're damn right I'm hunting."

"Well," she hugged me once more, "Watch yourself out there, Lena. Hunting isn't exactly an easy job."

"I know," I agreed, "I have a few notches in my knife handle already."

"She's a hell of a hunter," Sam bragged, "She's saved my life."

"Three witches," I smirked, "Bang, bang, bang. Vegas week will never be the same."

"You brought her to Vegas?" Sheriff Mills scolded, ready to smack Sam on the back of his head.

"They didn't bring me," I saved him yet again, "Sam called me asking for help."

"Why couldn't Dean help you?"

"Because the witches got to him," I explained, "And Dean was having…Uh…"

"Um…" Sam looked to me for what to tell her, but I was drawing a blank. We weren't supposed to talk about what happened to Dean in Vegas.

"Don't tell me," she winced, "Something tells me I don't need to know that bad."

"Let's just say Dean was having woman problems," I waffled around it, but the sheriff was smart.

"Don't need to know, Lena," Sheriff Mills shut me down.

"Well," Sam finished his drink, "We need to be heading home. Lena, say your goodbyes."

"Already?" I awed, "Fine. Boys!"

"Yeah, Lena?" Brendon brought Luke and Mark back.

"I'm taking off," I broke the news to them, "I'll let you guys know when I'm back in town."

"Don't be a stranger, kid," Brendon kissed my forehead, "And the twins need to see more of Auntie Lena, too."

"They will," I promised.

"You're Bobby's niece?!" Sheriff Mills squeaked behind me.

"See you later, boys," I waved them off, "Yeah, I'm Bobby's niece. Not in the biological sense."

"Lena," she shut me up, "I know Sam and Dean. I know how Bobby worked. But in a way, I can see the family resemblance."

"I miss him," I laid my head on Sam's shoulder.

"Me, too," she sympathized, "Both of you, stay out of trouble."

"We don't look for trouble," Sam jabbed, "Trouble finds us."

"You know what I mean," Sam really was working for that smack, "You, too, though, Lena. Be careful. Don't bite off more than you can chew here."

"I won't," I promised, "I never thought I'd say this, but it really was good to see you again, Sheriff Mills. And not being in the back of your squad car."

"You, too," she smiled, "And you get to call me Jody. Give Dean a kiss for me."

"See you later, Jody," Sam waved behind us and him and I were back on the road again. Weird how little things could take me back like that. A chance meeting in a bar in Sioux Falls with the one woman that I saw as the biggest pain in my ass outside the nuns. When Jody doesn't have the god complex behind the badge, she's not half bad. I guess this is growing up.

Once we got back to the bunker, everything seemed pretty quiet. It was getting kind of late. Dean might have actually been sleeping, but with the way he works, I doubt it. I hadn't seen him in a few days and I was starting to miss him. Sure, Dean had his moments where I wanted to beat the ever-living crap out of him, but deep down, he wasn't bad either. Damn…When did I get less cynical? But what was really bothering me was Sam as soon as we walked through the front door.

"I'm not telling you," I skipped down the steps, already on my last nerve with him.

"Come on, Lena," Sam poked, "What got you on Jody's radar?"

"Dean!" I yelled, "We're home! And Sam may not be living much longer!"

"Hey," Dean came out from the back, "What's going on?"

"Sam won't leave me alone about some things," I shot him a subliminal glare, hoping to God he'd keep his mouth shut about my police record in Sioux Falls, "And I'm about to pistol whip him."

"Sammy," Dean stopped him, "Some things are better left unsaid."

"By the way," I got up on my tiptoes, kissing my brother's cheek, "I was told to give you a kiss."

"It's from Jody," Sam grinned darkly.

"Sam," I growled, "Shut your hole."

"You guys ran into Jody?" Dean awed, "I'm jealous."

"She sends her love," I really wanted to punch him. Because I knew that if Dean knew about me having a record, he wouldn't let up about it either.

"Speaking of love," Dean took my hand, "I have a labor of love to show you."

"Where are we going?" I wondered, thanking every deity in the book that he didn't read into Sam's relentless teasing.

"Why didn't you tell us it was your birthday today, Lena?"

Dammit, "Didn't think it was important. We got bigger fish to take care of. My birthday isn't exactly a top priority."

"You're, what, fifteen?" Dean figured.

"Yeah."

"You should probably start learning how to drive, too," he thought out loud, "Because sometimes, we both need a nap in the back."

"Probably." I really hoped this meant I got to drive the Impala. She's such a beauty.

"Before you get any crazy ideas," Dean scoffed, "You're not learning with the Impala."

"Dammit," I pouted. It's like he was in my head.

"I thought," my brother handed me a set of keys, "You could probably do that in your own car."

"You got me a car?!" I freaked.

"Better," Dean pulled off a cover and what happened next was a sucker punch to the gut in the weirdest way, "I fixed your car."

In the middle of the bunker garage sat a fully restored '65 Mustang in the most beautiful shade of blue that brought a tear to my eye, "Did this come from the scrapyard?"

"I called a few people," he explained, "And we pulled it out of the scrapyard while you and Sam were gone. I've been working on it ever since."

"Dean," I choked out, "Do you realize the significance of this car?"

"Tell me like I don't."

"Uncle Bobby was going to fix this for me," I wept, "He said he was going to fix it and give it to me once I turned sixteen. When we were last in Sioux Falls together, I sat in the driver's seat and cried because I thought she'd never see road again. I used to take naps regularly in the back of it. This is the only car I ever wanted and because Uncle Bobby was gone, I thought I'd never have her."

"Well," Dean wrapped his arms around me, "Instead of Bobby fixing it, I fixed it. I hope that's ok."

And almost instantly, I bawled in my brother's shoulder, "I love you, Dean."

"Love you, too, kiddo," he kissed the top of my head, "You wouldn't want to take it for a spin right now, would you?"

"Too emotional," I shot him down, "Too tired."

"Come on," Dean wiped my eyes and took my keys from me, "You need to mellow out. What better way than some good tunes on the radio and the wind in your face?"

"Ok," I agreed, "Sam!"

"Yeah?" he poked his head in the garage, "What's up?"

"We'll be right back," Dean told him, "Taking her baby for a spin."

"Don't have her out too late."

"I won't."

 **A/N: I cried. That last part made me weep. Not to mention the fact that the boys want Lena to have just as much of a normal life as she can. And that kind of warms my heart a bit. Now, I've been wanting to introduce Jody for ages now and because I want a little downtime before the master plan is revealed, we had this. As for next week…Next week's chapter is going to be a little bit of a heart to heart, obviously, in that pretty blue Mustang, so you have a little fair warning. See you next chapter! xx**


	18. Heart to Heart

**A/N: Hi, guys! First, before I forget, I missed out on Sammy's birthday. And I completely spaced to do a chapter for that. I guess that's kind of what last week's chapter was, if you think about it. We had a slight birthday party (even though it wasn't for Sam, but he was celebrating, too. Cas isn't going to make a birthday pie for Sam, but the least they could do was do a birthday cake shot together.). So, happy late birthday to one of my favorite brothers and also, in the words of the immortal, her royal highness, the Queen of Moons, Charlie Bradbury (or at least, I'm pretty sure she'd be saying something along these lines), May the 4** **th** **be with you, bitches…I'll see you at the end, ok? Enjoy!**

I never thought this beauty would see the road again. Thanks to Dean, she's got a whole new lease on life. Guess that makes two of us, huh, baby? Not a word was said between us and nothing needed to be said. If it weren't for the rumble of the engine or the music on the radio, it'd be dead silent. Not that I minded really.

Even better, a good song came on the radio. Simple Man was a classic and Skynyrd were gods. But just as I turned the radio up, Dean turned it off, "Hey, what the hell, man? That was a good song."

"I know," Dean didn't take his eyes off the road, "It puts a bad taste in my mouth."

"I get it," I let out a heavy sigh, laying my head on the window, "I really do."

"You do?" he gave me a look, "What do you mean, you get it?"

"I'm kind of a bookworm, Dean," I reminded him. In my reading of the Supernatural books, I knew enough about both those boys to make them think I'm psychic. All of Simple Man was a conversation between a mother and son about her hopes for him in the future. Comparing that to the Supernatural books, I could easily see how it would screw Dean up.

"I freakin' hate the Supernatural books," Dean grumbled, "I guess you do get it, don't you?"

"At least you knew your parents,"I pointed out, "You have memories of a family. I never got that. I had the orphanage and occasional foster homes that never felt like home."

"Lena..." Dean took my hand, holding it on the shifter, almost as if to apologize, "I..."

"No," I stopped him, "You know how I feel about the whole pity thing."

"Sorry."

"You know," I curled up in my seat, "I could vaguely tell you what my paretns looked like. That's one of those things the djinn got right. If Uncle Bobby didn't have pictures from the good old days, I'd have no idea. Other than people in town saying I look just like my mom or I look just like my dad or I have this part of them and that part of them. Even then, I'd have to Frankenstein them together."

"You're right," Dean agreed, not letting me go, "I got memories of my parents. Fond memories, memories that make family not all that it's cracked up to be. But think of it this way. You have memories of Bobby that I'll never have. When we were in your noodle fighting the djinn, the Bobby in there wasn't the man I knew. It was like meeting him for the first time."

"I miss Uncle Bobby," I shook a little, "I kind of wish you would've left me in there. Everything was perfect."

"But it wasn't real," he reminded me, trying to offer whatever comfort he could.

"I know," I felt around in my pockets, looking for some pain relief, "You mind if we pull over? I really don't want to smoke in this car. She's too sacred."

"Sure," Dean pulled off into a clear field in the middle of nowhere and the two of us laid on the hood while I lit my cigarette, staring into the beautiful void of the night sky, "You know, Lena, you might not have had your mom and dad, but you had Bobby. And Jody, too, from what I hear."

"I'd rather not revisit my time in the Sioux Falls juvenile detention center," I felt my first drag in my pinky toes, "If it's all the same to you."

"You really went that far?" he gasped, "You? You are literally sugar, spice, and everything nice."

"Are you really that surprised?" I chuckled, "Dean, you're laying on the hood of a car with a fifteen year old girl with a fake ID long before you and Sam came into the picture, a slight drinking problem, and smokes like a chimney. Are you really that shocked that I've spent a couple weekends in Sioux Falls that weren't at Uncle Bobby's house?"

"I don't know why I would be," he smiled a bit.

"I guess it does take a village," a cloud of melancholic smoke rolled off my lips, "I wish I would've realized that before it was too late."

"Hey," Dean popped me in the shoulder, "You still got the village, kid. Some new faces rolled into town. That's all. You always got Sam and me. And Cas. Hell, Crowley to a certain extent. Jody's still around, all your friends in Hartford. We're not going anywhere, Lena. We don't turn our back on family. That's practically rule number one."

I laid my head on my brother's ribs, "Thanks, Dean."

"No problem," he kissed my forehead, "You ever need a reminder of that fact, I'll cold clock you with my .22, got it?"

"Got it," I giggled.

"You done there?" Dean asked, nodding toward my cigarette smoked down to the filter.

"Yeah," I flicked it off into the distance and jumped back in the car. Under the three layers of flannel and the single layer of leather, I guess Dean really did care. If that didn't give me a case of the warm and fuzzies, nothing will.

"This sucks," my brother pouted, "There's nothing on the radio and I promised you a good night drive. Are there any tapes in the glove box?"

"Wrong car, sweetie," I pointed out, "This is my baby, not yours."

"I don't know," a little smirk appeared on his face, "You don't think I'd rebuild this car for your and not make sure you were set up in the tunes department?"

"What?" I teased, "No aux cable?"

"That better be a joke, Lena," Dean almost took that personally, "Or I swear to God, I'm going to push you out of this car and leave you on the freeway. You don't put an aux cable in something like this."

"It was," I laughed, "Relax, Dean. The vein sticking out of your forehead really brings out the blue flecks in those green, Disney princess eyes of yours."

"Just pick something," he shoved me. I thumbed through the pickings in my glovebox jukebox and found something absolutely perfect. The greatest soundtrack for a night drive like this, "Do you even know how to work something like that?"

"Yes," I rolled my eyes, pushing the tape into the deck.

And a soft, unmistakable guitar riff started to fill my car in the form of Bob Segar's Night Moves. Dean slowly looked over at me as I started to jam a little, "Excellent choice, kid."

"What did I say about underestimating my music tastes?" I started singing, "I was a little too tall, could've used a few pounds…Tight pants points hardly renown. She was a black hair beauty with big, dark eyes. And points all her own, sitting way up high…"

"You know Night Moves?" he gave me a look.

"Hell yeah, I know Night Moves," I squeaked, "This song is a jam and no one can convince me otherwise."

"Yeah," Dean confirmed, "You're definitely one of us. Blood or not."

"A wise old man once told me," I leaned my seat back a little, "Family don't end with blood,"

"It's funny," he chuckled under his breath, "Because a bitter, drunk hunter has told me the same thing. Ready to go home?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "Let's go home."

"And if you ever need another night like this, Lena…"

"You'll cold clock me with your .22," I remembered, "I know."

"No," he shook his head, "You let me know, got it?"

"So you can cold clock me with your .22?"

"Lena…"

"I will," I smiled a little and the two of us headed back to the bunker.

Amazing. I'm almost one hundred percent positive that Sam felt the same way, but it's amazing how both of them are so willing to go above and beyond for me. Little old me. The stray they took in and gave a home. For the first time in my fifteen years of existence, I had a home that felt like home. That felt like so much more than four walls and a roof over my head. A home that meant something. A home that I never wanted to leave. I was no longer outside looking in and never once felt the need to be inside looking out. This was exactly where I was meant to be.

When Dean and I got back to the bunker, Sam's bag was laying on the table and the weapons bag was open. That was enough to make Dean's radar start going off, "Sammy? You're still here, right?"

"Yeah!" Sam called back, coming out with another bag on his shoulder, "We have to go."

"What's going on?" I worried.

"We have to get going," he threw his bag down, "We got a lead."

"Where to?" Dean asked, taking the weapons bag, ready to take off at the drop of a hat.

"Boston!"

"Shipping up to Boston, then?" I grabbed my jacket and my gun, "Let's go kick some demon ass, take names, and chew bubblegum."

"Lena," Dean gave me the biggest WTF face I've ever seen in my life, "We don't have any bubblegum."

"That's the point, sweetie," I rolled my eyes, "Let's go!"

"Hey, Sam," Dean yelled up to him, "Where did you get this lead from?"

"Cas called about ten minutes ago," Sam filled him in, "He said Boston was having some severe thunderstorms."

"The dude's freaked out over a bumblebee," Dean pointed out, "So, it's raining in Boston."

"They've been in a drought for the past two months," Sam went on, "These thunderstorms came out of the blue. And there's been farms in the surrounding area with slaughtered cows all over the place."

"Cattle mutilation, thunderstorms," I thought it over, "I know I haven't been at this long, but it smells like sulfur. Smells like demons."

"Settle down, turbo," Dean stopped me, "Let's run through the list. Got your knife?"

"Sure do," I whipped it out of my boot.

"Holy water?"

"Yep," I pulled a bottle out of my bag.

"Rosary, just in case?"

"Yep."

"Salt?"

"Yes," I was starting to get a strong desire to punch him.

"Aegerine around your neck?"

"Always," I pulled the pendant out of my shirt.

"Alright then," Dean threw his bag over his shoulder, "And you got your gun on your thigh, right?"

"Yes, Dean!" I squeaked, "I'm ready. Let's go!"

 **A/N: Worried parent, Dean Winchester. Rather endearing, if you ask me. This whole chapter was worried parent Dean Winchester and I love it. Sorry that it's kind of short, but look on the bright side, it's up early. We're going to be going on a hunt next week, so no more chick flick crap. See you next chapter! xx**


	19. Drunken Lullabies

Oh, Boston. Home to some of my favorite bans and my least favorite colonal American event for my tea addicted ass. I bet it's a neat town, though. I hope I get a chance to explore it a little. There's probably more American history here than anywhere else in the country and if there was one subject I excelled in when I was still in school, it was history. And English, but that's for entirely different reasons. However, we weren't here for the delightful sight seeing. We had a job to do.

"So," Sam threw his bag on one of the beds, claiming it for himself, "Where do we start?"

"We start," Dean followed suit, "by finding Cas."

"I am here," a rumbly voice popped up out of nowhere, scaring the crap out of Dean.

"I'm getting you a bell," he grumbled, "A shaker. Something to make noise. You can't give us a heads up when you pop in? Or here's a novel concept. Knock?"

"It's good to see you, too, Dean," Cas pouted.

"Any idea where these demons are hanging out, Cas?" I asked, breaking up the potential bitching contest that could've broke out at any minute with these two. Any decent psychiatrist would probably chalk it up to sexual frustration on both sides, but in my time with my boys, Dean was kind of a slut.

"I did find them," Cas went on, completely blowing Dean off, "They're at a bar called the Devil's Trap."

"Seriously?" Sam gave the angel a look.

"The Devil's Trap?" Dean shared his brother's sentiment, "Are they hiding in plain sight or just that done?"

"Hold on," I stopped them, "Wait a minute. Red flags, boys. Doesn't this feel a bit too much like a giant neon sign? Here we are? Come and get us?"

"Makes the job easier," Dean shrugged.

"No, no, no," I shook my head, "Don't get me wrong. I'm all for kicking demon ass and taking names, but there's something really not kosher here."

"Excellent choice of words, Lena," Sam teased.

"I'm just saying," I jumped onto Dean's bed, "This could be a trap."

"Probably is a trap," Dean assumed, "That's why you're staying here. Cas, keep an eye on her."

"But Dean," Cas cocked his head, "There are quite a few demons in there. You're going to need all the help you can get. I can't stay behind."

"But Lena also needs to be safe," Dean put his foot down.

"Because Lena can't take care of herself?" I asked, almost a little insulted, "I'm seriously riding the pine here?"

"Sam and I can take care of it," Dean promised, "You don't need to throw yourself under the bus here."

"But you guys do?" I started to get pissed, "This isn't your problem to begin with."

"When it comes to someone we care about," Sam stepped in, "Yeah. It is."

"I never asked for either one of you to care about me," I growled, "I can take care of myself! And I'm going, too!"

"No, you're not!" The vein in Dean's forehead became more prominent, "Sam, talk some sense into her."

"I'm pretty sure she's beyond reason right now," Sam assumed.

"What do you mean, beyond reason?" I squealed, "What the hell, guys? You know the kind of hunter I am. You know damn well I could probably take on a dozen demons by myself. Maybe even more. Why am I suddenly sitting this out?"

"I guess we have to go with the ace in the hole," Dean cringed, "Lena...You're grounded."

"Are you serious?" I scoffed, "Grounded? Me?"

"Yeah," he stood his ground, "You're grounded. Don't make me cuff you to the bed."

"Sure," I grumbled, "Because a teenage girl handcuffed to the bed with two middle aged guys looks real good."

"Just stay here," Dean demanded.

"I'm out," I got up and grabbed my lighter off the table.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Smoke break!" I slammed the door behind me. Where the hell do they get off? They're not my dads. I've slit many a demon throat. I've decapitated more vampires than I could count. I've taken on witches, djinn, werewolves, and a bad herbal trip. I've saved their lives once or twice. Yet, a few demons are after me and now, they decided to get twitchy? I've come a long way in a short amount of time, but now, Sam and Dean are going to bench me. This sucked!

Although, I'm guessing they weren't anticipating me taking one of my FBI IDs. Or me running off on them. I could use a good, strong drink. And I was in Boston. But I didn't really do beer too much. I'm sure I could still manage to find some good whiskey, though. Irish whiskey? Oh, hell yeah.

I slipped into a bar down the road from our motel and took a seat. Damn, the bartender's cute. I wonder if he's seeing anyone. He wouldn't be too terribly bad for the night. Just a warm body would do. Something tells me that my usual cuddling with Dean wasn't going to work tonight. Especially after the slight fight we just got into. Five o'clock wasn't too early in the day for a drink, was it?

"What can I get for you?" he slid down to my end.

"Whiskey," I ordered, "Double."

"Are you old enough to be in here?" the bartender asked, looking me over with an air of skepticism.

"Plenty," I assured him, "Don't worry about it."

"Sorry, sweetheart," he apologized, "I'm still going to need to see some ID."

"Here," I flipped open my badge, "How's that?"

"Good enough," he got me a glass and put a couple shots of whiskey in it for me, "Anything else?"

"No," I shook my head, "I'm good. For now anyway."

"Alright," he nodded, "Let me know when you want another, ok?"

"Will do."

For it being a bar in Boston on a Thursday night, it was kind of dead in here. Maybe that was a blessing in disguise in hindsight. Because one drink to take the edge off may have turned into half a dozen drinks to make me black out. I didn't have any intentions of drinking myself under, but intentions and reality never seem to align for me, do they?

When I finally came to again, I was in a room by myself, sleeping comfortably on a small bed with hardly any memory of the night before. The last thing I could remember was fighting with Sam and Dean about a hunt, but at this point, I don't think it really mattered that much. I couldn't have just swallowed my pride and listened, could I? Way to go, Lena. I could hear Uncle Bobby bitching at me in the back of my head. If anyone can keep me safe, it'll be them two morons that are lucky their heads are attached. But back to the task at hand, where the hell was I?

"Hey," a guy came in with a bottle of water, "Are you ok?"

"Who are you?" I immediately jumped on the defensive.

"Relax," he settled me, giving me that water, "Are you ok?"

"Fine," I remained skeptical of his hospitality.

"Long night?" Was this dude actually trying to take care of me?

"Yeah," I kept my guard up, "Who are you?"

"I'm Toby," he introduced himself, trying to keep me calm.

"And where am I, Toby?" my snark rolled out of my mouth.

"You're in holding," Toby told me, "You got a little out of hand last night."

"What kind of out of hand?" I wondered, rubbing my eyes to shake this godforsaken headache burning in my brain.

"Just a little scrappy," he took my hand, "You think you could tell me your name?"

"Lena." I'm pretty sure this guy wasn't a demon. Just a cop.

"And your last name?"

Without a second thought, the family name came out, "Winchester."

"Are you in town alone?"

"No," I shook my throbbing head, "I'm here with my brothers."

"Well," Toby helped me up from the bed, "Your dad's here to get you, ok?"

"Ok," I stumbled a few steps, "How much do I owe in fines?"

"They're taken care of," he steadied me, "Are you sure you're ok?"

"I'm fine," I snapped a little, but then, things were clicking in my head, "Wait a minute. Did you say my dad was here?"

"Yeah," he nodded, taking me out to the front desk.

"There you are, Lena. You had me worried. Let's get you home, ok?"

"Ok?" I gave him a look.

"Thank you, Officer," the two of us stepped outside, "Hi, Lena."

"What are you doing here, Chuck?" I wondered, lighting up a cigarette, "I really do think you're stalking me."

"What happened in there?" Chuck asked, completely ignoring my question. As much as I'm questioning everyone since we got here, Chuck always was a hell of an ear to vent to.

"Those idiots treat me like I'm six," I pouted, "It's infuriating. I'm fully capable of taking care of myself. In the past few months, I'm sure I've proved my worth time and time again."

"Yikes, Lena," he threw his arms around me, "Who hurt you?"

"No one," I rolled my eyes, "I'm just used to taking care of myself. Become self-reliant, so you're not a burden on anyone."

"Ever think those boys see you more as a blessing than a burden?" Chuck asked, "For the love of all holy, let them love you."

"I'm just a stray," I shrugged, "And you sound like a fortune cookie."

"I do that once in a while."

"Really, though," I wondered, "Are you following me? Do you know where I live and where I sleep? Did Sam and Dean send you?"

"I'm here of my own volition," Chuck assured me, "I'm not following you. I just go where I'm needed."

"And then there's that!" I squeaked, "You speak in riddles like some sort of bridge troll! Who are you, Chuck?"

"I told you," he smiled, "I'm just a friendly face walking by."

"That's a load of crap," I saw through him.

"Tell you what," Chuck suggested as we made it back to our motel, "Why don't you go in there, swallow your pride, and apologize?"

"Why should I apologize?" I scoffed, "They're the ones that thought I couldn't handle it."

"They're worried about you, Lena," he clarified, "Go on. You'll be seeing me again real soon"

"But…" What the hell? Where did he go? Chuck was just right here, wasn't he? I'm not going crazy? He did make a point, though. Like he always did. Dammit, I hate it when he's right. I treaded lightly, pushing the door to our room open, hoping they weren't too pissed at me. The car was parked outside, so I knew they were home. Probably white-knuckling it…Not surprised, though. I do kind of have a target on my back these days, "Sam? Dean?"

"Where the hell were you?!" Dean snarled. Ok. I deserved that. I had that coming, "Last time you went out for a smoke break and came out missing, you got jumped by a djinn!"

"And this time, I got wasted and woke up in holding," I explained, "No charges. I'm ok."

"Lena," Sam shared his brother's pissed off concern, "There's something you're not telling us. Please. Let us help you."

"You want to know?" I sighed out, sitting on the edge of the bed, "There's a bounty on my head. Someone in Hell wants me real bad and there are demons everywhere looking for me. The reward is enough power to overthrow Crowley. I was told that I was supposed to die the night the house burned. I'm sure I was supposed to die the night the orphanage burned, too. But by some act of God, I lived. I don't know why, but here I am. Have you heard anything?"

"Crowley won't take our calls," Dean grumbled, starting to come down from his lividness.

"Hold on," I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and punched 666 on the dialer.

Ring…

Ring…

"Lena, darling!" Crowley sang on the other end, "Always such a delight to hear from you. What can I do for you?"

"Hi, sweetie," I beamed, looking on at the thoroughly confused expressions on my brothers' faces, "Any news on who wants me yet?"

"Sorry, love," he apologized, "I haven't heard anything. I have a couple demons on the rack. I'm sure that with the right amount of torture, I'll have them singing like canaries in a coal mine. As for any of the other demons after you, I've called all of mine off."

"Well," I bit my bottom lip, "Apparently, you got a rogue faction going on. There's been some thunderstorms and cattle mutilations in Boston."

"I heard about that," Crowley hummed, "I'll look into this rogue faction and see what's what, ok?"

"Thank you!" I chimed, hanging up my phone.

"How the hell did that happen?" Dean was still in disbelief.

"What can I say?" I shrugged, "Crowley adores me for some reason."

"We can chew your ass out later," Dean brushed me off, "You need to get caught up."

"Alright," I took my stay of execution, "What's up?"

"The bar's been cleaned out," Sam began, "All the demons are gone."

"Seriously," Dean broke in, "How did you do have Crowley that wrapped around your finger?"

"It's a gift," I laid my head on his shoulder, "My powers of manipulation know no bounds."

"At least you're in one piece," he wrapped his arms around me, "Never ever make me have to put the dad face on again."

"Want some jorts?" I teased, getting a cheap laugh out of Sam, "Bright white socks and some sandals? An ill-fitting t-shirt?"

"Lena…" Dean was already done with me. I was only adding fuel to the fire.

"No," I thought it over, "White shoes. New Balance. I can smell a grill in the distance."

"Lena…"

"Fine," I let it go…Or did I? No. I'm too horrible, "If you're such a dad, Dean, who's Mom?"

"Shut up, Lena."

"It can't be Sam," I dug deeper, "He's the weird uncle that still gives me money on my birthday."

"Shut up, Lena," Dean was ready to backhand me.

"Cas, maybe?" I figured, "He's kind of like a mom. But a cool mom that buys me cigarettes."

"I've bought you cigarettes," he pointed out, "And Cas isn't the mom! We should've left you in South Dakota."

"But you just can't seem to quit me," I hugged him tight, "And you know it."

"No more running off," Dean shoved his finger in my face, "Got it?"

"Take me on more hunting trips," I bargained, "And I won't run off."

"Deal," he threw his bag over his shoulder, "Nothing else for us here, right?"

"Nothing," Sam did the same, "And we got Lena back. Even though she really shouldn't run off like that."

"You guys benched me," I started getting angry again, but instantly settled back down, "But you're just looking out for me, right?"

"Exactly," Sam draped his arm over my shoulders.

"Cas is probably waiting back at the bunker," Dean figured, "We really should get going."

And the three of us got back in the Impala, letting Boston sink into the horizon. It's a shame I don't remember much from this past trip. I really should start taking pictures. Wow…First, it was me making pie in the kitchen. Then, it was me wanting to put up a framed needlepoint in the bunker. Now, I'm considering making a scrapbook. Cas isn't the mom. I am.

 **A/N: Can I just say how much I love that Lena's got Crowley, of all people, wrapped around her little finger? Honestly, I don't even know how she does it, but I, for one, find it adorable. And the image of Dean Winchester in jorts and dad sandals is a cursed image. If anyone ever makes such a thing, they will be brought five hundred years of darkness. See you next chapter! xx**


	20. Book of Revelations Pt 1

After the unpleasantness, it's going to be nice to get back to our Batcave. Bunker sweet bunker. I got why Sam and Dean did what they did...or what they tried doing, but I ran off. All they want is me safe, sound, and in one piece. And now that they know what's really going on, I'm sure my security is going to be doubled. Sam and Dean really do love me.

"I'm exhausted," Dean pushed the door open, "Do we have any of the good whiskey left? My stash seems to be going quick these days."

"I think we might," I bit my tongue, knowing exactly where Dean's whiskey was going. All he had to do was look under my bed and there's practically a minibar down there.

"Good," he sighed out, "Because I could use a drink. The stronger, the better."

"Seconded," Sam agreed.

"Thirded," a voice called from the bottom of the stairs, "Welcome home, boys."

"Great," Dean rolled his eyes, "Can never come home and just kick my feet up. Crowley, how in the hell did you get in here?"

"I did knock," Crowley pointed to the angel hiding in the corner, "And Castiel was so kind to let me in. Isn't he a sweetheart? I can see why you keep him around."

"Really, Cas?" Sam gave him a look.

"He said he had information," Cas defended.

"Enlighten us then," Dean cracked a beer open, bypassing the whiskey, "What information do you have?"

"Well," Crowley kicked his feet up on the table, "Lena, I know who wants you."

"Who?" I jumped down his throat, damn near sitting in his lap.

"There's an angel after you," he told, "But not just any angel."

"If there was an angel after Lena," Cas chimed in, "I would've heard something about it."

"Oh, not with this one," Crowley winced, "This is an archangel."

"Which one?" Sam asked, "Michael and Lucifer are incapacitated. Raphael and Gabriel are dead."

"Not dead," he corrected, "Hanging by a thread by they're not completely dead. Look at that! I made a rhyme."

"Congrats, Dr. Seuss," Dean grumbled, "Bigger fish here, Crowley. Who?"

"Lucifer," Crowley spit it out, "Lucifer wants you, Lena. I'm sorry, but that's the me's honest truth."

Both Sam and Dean gave our favorite little devil the biggest bitch face. I, for one, found the remark to be rather adorable. Along with their reaction. Wait a minute. Am I that sleep deprived and maybe drunk or did Crowley just say that Lucifer, the devil himself, was the one after me?

"Why would Lucifer want me?" I asked, completely frozen.

"I don't know, dear," Crowley took my hand, "I'm working on it. Maybe because you were spared from not only your first housefire, but the orphanage fire as well. You keep getting pushed out of his reach."

"Why me, though?" my voice shook. That wasn't supposed to happen.

"Sam, I can understand," Dean jumped in, "That whole true vessel thing. But Lena? She's just a kid. There's nothing special about her."

"Thanks, Dean," I scoffed, "You know how to make a girl feel good."

"You know what I mean," he pulled me into his lap, trying to redeem himself, "But really? He wants Lena?"

"Seems to be the rumor," Crowley chirped.

"So," I sighed, "What do we do?"

"For one," Sam assured, "You're not leaving our sight, flight risk."

"That was one time," I smiled, "But that was fair. I had that coming."

"Crowley," Dean asked, "Can you..."

"No way in hell," Crowley shot him down, "I'm not touching Lucifer. That's not happening."

"Hold on," I whispered in Dean's ear, "I got this."

"What are you doing?" he wondered, questioning my sanity.

I got up from Dean's lap and put myself in Crowley's instead, laying my head on his shoulder, giving him my biggest, most sparkly eyed look, "Come on, Crowley...Please? For me?"

"I'm sorry, darling, but no," Crowley resisted my charms. Dammit. Can't say I didn't try. However, a dirty look sparked in his eyes, "Although...I wonder what would happen if I were to collect the bounty. Whoever brings Lena in gets enough power to overthrow me, so does that mean I'd double my power? Maybe I could take Heaven?"

"Crowley," Cas jumped on the defensive, "No."

"Crowley, yes." The more he thought about it, the more excited it made him.

"But," I kept my air of innocence, "You wouldn't do that to me, would you?"

"Of course not," Crowley promised, "I'm cold and vain, but I'm not that bad. Not to mention, your attack dogs would probably tear me limb from limb. I don't know about you, but I'd rather that not happen."

"Lena," Dean asked, "Where's your necklace?"

"Right here," I pulled the pendant out of my shirt, "I don't ever take it off. You know that."

"You boys think one little aegerine crystal will work against Lucifer?" Crowley jabbed, "That's like using a stern look against an army."

"Hey," I pointed out, "The right look can bring regimes to their knees."

"Power wise, Lena," he grumbled, "Honestly, how do you two put up with her?"

"A lot of prayer," I chirped, "And a lot of whiskey."

"Pretty much," Sam agreed.

"As much as bursting your bubble is like golf to me," Crowley went on, "One little aegerine crystal isn't going to work. Not on Lucifer anyway."

"Hold on," Dean thought out loud, "Lucifer's still in the cage, isn't he? Him and Michael are bitch slapping each other?"

"Someone could spring him at any given time." Castiel. Angel of the lord and ever the optimist.

"So, what do we do?" Dean cracked open beer number two, "We just hole up here?"

"Do you know the kind of effect that'd have on my sanity?" I squeaked, "Let alone yours? Sam's? No. Isolation is no good. We can't do that."

"I have an idea," Crowley smirked.

"We're not giving her to Lucifer," Sam put his foot down, "That's not an option."

"Obviously," Dean agreed, "No freakin' way."

Knock, knock.

The boys exchanged glances. First, with each other, then with Cas and Crowley. Then, Sam gave me the same WTF look, "Lena, did you order pizza?"

"No," I shook my head.

"Who the hell would be…" Dean stopped himself.

"I don't know," Sam shrugged as another series of knocks echoed through the bunker, "Do we answer it?"

"Lena," Dean demanded, "Stay here."

"Ok," I wasn't going to fight him. We all know how well that went last time.

Sam got up and walked up the stairs, "Chuck? What are you doing here?"

"I heard you boys were stuck in a pickle," a familiar voice chirped, "Thought I'd drop by."

"Chuck?" Dean glanced over his shoulder, "The hell are you doing here? You don't just drop by."

"Hi, Lena," Chuck shot me a wink, making both the boys more confused than they already are.

"Seriously," I gasped, "What the hell kind of social worker are you, man?"

"Social worker?" Sam asked, "How do you know Chuck?"

"How do you know Chuck?" I retaliated. These boys grew up with their dad. And he didn't die until they were in their twenties, so there's no way they've been through the system like I have.

"Well," Dean explained, "You know those Supernatural books you've read from cover to cover that share every little detail of our lives?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "What about them?"

"He wrote them."

"No way," I looked over my alleged social worker, "Big fan, but I have a hard time believing you wrote the hardcore smut between Sam and Ruby. That was pretty X-rated."

"Ruby?" Crowley perked up, "Azazel's Ruby? Sam, I didn't think you had it in you. Or you in her as the case may be."

"Nobody asked for you, Crowley," Sam got defensive.

"Rather poetic, really," Crowley went on, not knowing when to keep his mouth shut, "The demon that burns your mother when you were just a baby and you make the beast with two backs with his little girl. And I thought you and your brother had daddy issues."

"Crowley," I hushed him before Sam had the chance to kill him, "That's enough."

"And Lena," Chuck glared at me, "You're way too young to be reading that. Although, flattered."

"Chuck's a prophet, Lena," Dean told, "At least he was when we first met him. And wanted to beat the crap out of him."

"You're a prophet?" I gasped, "There's no way…"

"Lena," Chuck took my hand, "We need to talk. I haven't been completely honest with you since we first met."

"And how did that happen exactly?" Sam brought the conversation back.

"He's the one that told me to go to the bar the night we met," I remembered, "And when I got back, the orphanage was in flames, so in a way, he saved my life. I guess you really are a prophet."

"No, no," Chuck clarified, "I'm not a prophet. Hence why we need to talk. I know everything."

"What kind of everything?" I grew more and more skeptical.

"I know about how you've been hunting monsters with Sam and Dean," he came clean, "I know you're not really FBI. I also know there's a bounty on your head in Hell and Lucifer's the one that wants you."

"How?" I freaked, "How do you even know what any of this is?"

"Believe me," Chuck inched closer to me, "I want to help you in any way I can. I never lied when I told you I liked you. Why else would I have guided you into Sam and Dean's hands?"

"Chuck…" I shook, "Are you…?"

"Am I what?"

"Christo," I whispered, studying his reaction very closely.

"What?" Chuck asked, "And you can just call me Chuck. No need to get fancy."

 **A/N: I'm so sorry this chapter is so short. Even more sorry that it's short and I have to announce hiatus. I'm going to be out of town for the next couple weeks, so you guys are going to have to hang in there for me, ok? Although, look on the bright side.**

 **When I come back, though, it'll be a concept I call bomb week. I had someone a few chapters ago say that this story was awfully addicting and they wished I'd post a chapter every single day. Well, fear not, Supernatural fan. Because your wish is about to come true. For a week anyway. Because that's what bomb week is. For the entire month of June, I'm going to post an entire week of updates for this one right after the other. And partially into July because of the way my current scheduling is. I'm going to be gone until the first week of June, so that one's off the table. But then, I'll be posting an entire week of Black Butler, a week of Ouran, a week of Yuri on Ice, and a week of Supernatural. However, in between time, you're not going to get any updates for this because I'm going to be working on another story. I know it sounds a little confusing right now, but when you see it, it'll make a lot more sense.**

 **Also, when bomb week for this hits, I could very well be ending it. Although, I do have a little bit of a plan for this story as far as its sequels are concerned. So wipe the tears. And I'll see you next chapter, whenever that may be. xx**


	21. Book of Revelations Pt 2

**A/N: If you're reading this…Well, I'm out of quippy things to say. My brain's burned out from doing so much in such a short amount of time. But I'm currently away from my desk right now. I'm in upper Michigan spending some quality time with the extended family. If you're in the area and see a girl with bright ass purple hair, there's a good chance it's me. Feel free to come up and say hi. But I promise this is a beautiful chapter. You'll laugh, you'll cry, and you'll even learn something. So I'll shut up and you'll read, ok?**

"You're who now?" I gave my alleged social worker a skeptical look.

"It's true, Lena," Chuck assured, "Me's honest truth."

"Write your own material, Shurley," Crowley pouted in the back, "Drink? Anyone? Just me?"

"Ok," I backed away from him, "What you are is a grade A stalker and I'd like for you to leave."

"Lena," Sam threw an arm around me, "He's not lying. Dean, where's your necklace?"

"I turned it off, Sam," Chuck, if that even was his name, told him.

"Please," I begged, "I'm not in the mood to deal with false prophets."

"Lena, he was a prophet," Cas said, "That's very true."

"Thank you, Castiel," Chuck nodded, "But maybe there's a way I can convince you."

"Checking yourself into the hospital?" I kept inching away from him, "There's no way you're actually..."

An awkward silence filled the air, "God?"

"There's just no way," I shook, completely awestruck. Chuck was only a stalker with some weird obsession with me. Probably because I was a lost little orphan with no family to claim the body if he decided to kill me. Little did he know, I had family now. And if I so choose, I could kick his ass sideways and bite really hard.

"If I weren't God," Chuck asked, "Could I do this?"

Two people walked out from behind him. A man and a woman. They weren't ringing any bells. Wait, when the hell did they get here? Weird, but I've seen weirder. I've been hunting for six months now. I've fought werewolves and witches and vampires and djinn and demons and a bad acid trip without the acid part. I pal around with an angel and occasionally, I hang out with the king of Hell. It made me wonder what manner of creature these two were.

"Hi, Lena," the woman spoke, moving closer to me, "Wow..."

"You grew up so beautiful, princess," the man followed, putting his hand to my cheek.

I flinched under his touch, "Who are you?"

"You haven't seen them since you were six months old," Chuck rocked back on his heels.

"These two are my parents?" I dug back in my memories of the pictures Uncle Bobby showed me. They were pretty grainy, though, so I didn't have a very clear picture in my head of what they looked like, "How do I know? They wouldn't know much about me and they could be two random people off the street. You could've fed them my file before they got here."

"Lena," my "dad" took my hand, only for me to immediately shake it off, "You're our baby. Our one and only."

"No," I shook my head, throwing myself into Dean's chest, "No."

"Take two then?" Chuck shrugged, "Ok. And you boys will probably appreciate this one, too."

"Lena...?" Another body materialized from behind Chuck. The voice alone was unmistakable and opened up a giant pit in my stomach. If Chuck was some sort of monster, this would be the one that would put me down for the count. And I'm pretty sure Sam and Dean would be the same way. He shot a weird look at them, "Dammit..."

"Uncle Bobby...?" my heart fell to pieces.

"Bigger fish," he pushed them two aside and threw his arms around me. There was no mistaking this. No one could feel this way except for him.

"Sorry, Zach, Gwen," Chuck apologized, "He was around a lot more than you were."

"We were dead," the man chuckled a bit.

"Thank you, Bobby," the woman smiled as the two of them turned into a beam of light, disappearing from the bunker.

But right now, none of that mattered. I had the only family I knew again before the boys came along. And I bawled in his shoulder, never wanting to be anywhere else. In typical Uncle Bobby fashion, he let me cry. And glared a hole through my brothers, "What? You act like I'm so cold."

"Sorry, Bobby," Dean dropped his gaze, "It's just..."

"What?" Uncle Bobby cradled me, "You think you two were the only ones I've adopted over the years? What would she be doing hanging around you two?"

"It's a long story," Sam cringed.

"I'm dead," he growled, "Where do I have to go? I'm not exactly playing the back nine upstairs."

"So, Lena," Chuck asked, "You believe me now?"

"It's true," Uncle Bobby promised, never having a reason to lie to me, "He's the real deal."

"Ok," I believed him as he ran his shirt sleeve over the top of my cheekbones.

"And you two," he went back to taking Sam and Dean over his proverbial knee, "You two dragged her into this?"

"Wow, Bobby," Dean gasped, "Never really expected you to be the type that was so good with kids."

"I had you boys, didn't I?"

"Yeah," Dean drawled, "But that's us. We were different."

"And you don't think that if I had the opportunity," Uncle Bobby's tirade went on, "If John would've left you two on my doorstep and never looked back, do you really think I would've raised you in the life like he did?"

"No," Sam shook his head, "Probably not."

"Damn right, I wouldn't!" Uncle Bobby was ready to knock their heads together, "And if the state didn't have something against me, I would've snapped Lena up in a heartbeat."

"Thanks, Uncle Bobby," I cuddled my head in his chest, "But..."

"What's the matter, pumpkin?" he lifted my chin up to him, "If you are hanging around them, something's got to be going on."

"Lucifer's after me," I almost started crying again, "I'm actually scared."

"Just another day at the office, huh?" Uncle Bobby hugged me tight, "Don't worry, sweetheart. That's not going to happen. We've dealt with Lucifer once. We can do it again."

"Bobby Singer, you sly dog," Crowley came back out with a scotch in his hand, "Is that you? Are you finally returning my calls?"

"Um..." I gave him a look, "Care to explain?"

"Not particularly," he gagged a little.

"Come on," Crowley shot him a wink, "We had some good times, didn't we?"

"Shut up, Crowley," Dean settled him, just as unnerved.

"Ahem," Crowley nudged me, showing me his phone screen, "How does that old saying go? A picture saying a thousand words?"

I wasn't exactly sure what to make of this. On one side was Crowley. On the other side was Uncle Bobby. But whatever the hell was going on in the middle was what had me lost. Dean giggled behind us, "You still have the picture, Crowley? That's a little sad."

"I just sit around," Crowley let out a dreamy sigh, "Waiting for the phone to ring."

"Uncle Bobby," I cringed, "You could do better."

"Hey!" the devil we know and love whined.

"No offense, sweetie," I settled him, "You're a catch."

"Lena," Uncle Bobby worried, "How and why are you so chummy with Crowley?"

"He likes me," I smiled, "I'm not sure why, but he does."

"That's not hard," Sam winked at me.

"So, Lucifer, huh?" Uncle Bobby sat down with me on his lap.

"Yep," I nodded, "Lucifer."

"You know I didn't want this for you, pumpkin," he glanced over at his boys...our boys, "But if anyone would pull you into the life of a hunter, I'm glad it's them."

"Thanks, Bobby," Dean blushed a little.

"Stick to them like glue, kid," Uncle Bobby ordered, "Sam and Dean are two of the best hunters I've ever met."

"She's not bad either, Bobby," Sam pointed out, "She's got some notches in her knife handle, too."

"And lying to the feds?" Dean gushed, "I've never seen anyone pull it off so well. She's a natural!"

"Really?" he looked back at me, not sure whether to be proud or disappointed.

"On her second hunt out," Sam told him, "She iced three witches with almost no hesitation. She saved my life that night."

"Couldn't let you die looking like a douchebag," I giggled.

"That's my girl," Uncle Bobby kissed my temple.

"And you would've done the same for me," I brushed him off, "It was either that or deal with both you and Dean PMS-ing. I, for one, would've preferred death."

"What?"

"Don't ask," Dean grumbled, suppressing the memory of Vegas week.

"So?" Chuck grinned smugly at me, "Believe that I'm God yet?"

"Yes," I rolled my eyes, "I believe you. You really aren't a social worker."

"Yay!" he applauded, "Good for you, Lena. I'm proud of you."

"Bringing it back here," Sam stepped in, "What do we do about Lucifer?"

"I don't know," Uncle Bobby shrugged, "I'm stumped."

"Crowley's sitting this one out," I scoffed as he tipped his glass to me.

"Well," Chuck chimed in, "Should I go talk to him?"

"Really?" Dean gave him a look, "Did we not learn from that?"

"I have an idea..." I spoke meekly, fully aware of how this was going to go over like a lead balloon.

"We're listening, Lena," Sam allowed, "What is it?"

"Crowley could take me to Lucifer," I bit my tongue, "I could be bait."

"No freakin' way," Dean put his foot down.

"Using yourself as bait is never a good idea," Uncle Bobby seconded, "That's page one of the hunter's handbook."

"You know, Bobby," Dean thought it over, "We really could use another good hunter on this job. He could stay a little longer, right, Chuck?"

"I don't see why not," Chuck agreed, "Bobby? Would you be ok with helping with Lucifer again?"

"Always," Uncle Bobby's embrace around me tightened, "Let's hatch a plan, shall we?"

 **A/N: So, we've not only revealed Chuck, but we goT BOBBY, TOO! YAAAAAYYYY! Ready to kick ass and take names? I think so. Also, I love that Lena went more for Bobby than her own parents. That whole family ending in blood thing, I guess. And the boys gushing about her…I love. And Crowley being…Well, Crowley. There's no other way to describe that. There is sass abound in this chapter and I love it. I miss you all terribly and I'll see you next chapter! xx**


	22. Sweet Dreams

**A/N: Hi there! I know you…You silly, silly bean. That's right! I'm back! We can talk later. I'm sure you're excited to see what's going on with everything and I know I am, so I'll shut up now.**

Why couldn't I have been adopted by a lonely, rich guy? I could be living in a lavish mansion, laying poolside with a drink in my hand and my own Bentley for every day of the week in assorted colors in the driveway. But no. I had to end up getting adopted by the two guys that save the world from monsters. The same guys that run credit card scams and have a drinking problem and access to a massive arsenal that would have Homeland Security knocking if they knew about it. And I just had to be the object of Lucifer's desire. Quite the pickle you got yourself in here, Lena.

However, if I'm being honest, I've had some times with those boys I wouldn't trade for the world. I might not have had a rainbow of Bentleys, but I had a classic royal blue Mustang in our garage next to the Impala. I was living in probably the most secure location in the entire country. Hell, maybe even the entire world. Even more important. The most important of all?

"Hey, Lena," Sam pulled me aside, "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Sure," I said, "What's up?"

"Are you doing ok?" he worried, "This can be a lot to take in. With Bobby coming back and finding out about Chuck..."

"Sammy," I took his hand, "I'm golden. Everything's ok. I mean, Lucifer wants me for whatever reason, but there's a bright side here. The whole family is together. I got my boys. I got Uncle Bobby back. I got this."

"That's the attitude to have," Dean joined us, popping me in the shoulder, "You sure you're ok upstairs?"

"Positive," I confirmed.

"Bobby?" Dean called him over, "Ruling? You've known Lena longer than we have."

"If she says she's fine, she's fine," Uncle Bobby explained, "You know, some people don't lie through their teeth about that. Now, over here. We got bigger things to worry about."

Couldn't have said it better myself. Although he may not look it, Uncle Bobby had a way with words. The six of us sat at the table in the war room, doing our best to rack our brains. We could figure something out, I'm sure. We have four incredible hunters, an angel, and God. Among the six of us, one of us is bound to come up with something.

"I got nothing," I rested my head on the table. Going by the looks on everyone else's face, my actions were felt all around, "We're about to go up against the damn Devil himself. I'm pretty sure we don't have anything that can take him out."

"Then, we go in, guns blazing," Dean decided, "We'll hit him with everything we got. Something's bound to weaken him somewhere along the line."

"And Chuck," Sam hoped, "You can help us out here, right?"

"Sorry, boys," Chuck bit his lip, "I can't. I have to go look after Heaven. If Lucifer's out of the cage, nothing's going to stop him from coming up to overthrow once he's taken care of Earth."

"Awesome," Dean grumbled into his hands, just as defeated as the rest of us.

"Come on," Uncle Bobby chimed in, "We've done this once. We'll do it again."

"I hope so," I sighed out, "I really don't want Lucifer anywhere near me. Chuck, do you have any idea of why he wants me?"

"No," Chuck shook his head, "I wish I knew more."

"Alright then," Dean got up, "Knowledge is power. Lena, hit the books."

"I'm going outside first," I took my brother's lighter from him. One of these days, I really need to get another one of these.

"For what?" Uncle Bobby asked.

"Smoke break," the words rolled off my tongue without a second thought. Lena, you idiot. Do you realize who you just said that to?

"Lena..." I could feel the disappointment in his voice.

"Please," I begged, "Spare me the lecture. I've gotten it from Sam and Dean before. Instead of yelling at me, will you come out with me?"

"Alright," he let it go, "I guess that'd be ok."

And just like that, Uncle Bobby and I took the stairs to the surface and stood outside the bunker door. Fortunately, I was spared from the lecture. For now anyway. I had a feeling that my cigarettes were going to go "missing" later. I'll go get more, but then, we'd repeat the vicious cycle. Oh, well. I stood in awkward silence with my uncle by my side. Why was this so hard? Regardless of what our blood or the legal system said, he was still my uncle. Why were we so weird with each other?

"Uncle Bobby," I blew out a little cloud of smoke, "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, kid," he allowed, "What's on your mind?"

"I've been out here many, many times over the course of the last six months," I told him, "And most of the time, I'd be talking to thin air. Honestly, I thought…Did you ever hear me when I'd talk to you?"

Without hesitation, Uncle Bobby pulled me to his side, holding me close, "Every word, pumpkin. Every last word."

"Why did you never try making contact?" I wondered.

"Define making contact."

"I don't know," I shrugged, "Like a Ouija board?"

"What are you, twelve?" he scoffed, "This ain't a slumber party, Lena. If I could've made contact with you, I would've. That's not the way things work upstairs."

"Not much difference down here than up there," I joked darkly, "Only difference was us finding a way to cheat the system down here."

"Lena," Uncle Bobby let out a heavy sigh, "You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't be hunting."

"I know," I agreed with him.

"But I'm so damn proud of you, though," he finished, "The fact that you became a hunter without becoming overly cynical is a feat in itself."

"I was already cynical, Uncle Bobby."

"Not as bad as you could've been," he scolded, "But you also keep those two in there from killing each other. You do know that, right?"

"I think so," I felt a warmth in my heart that spread to my toes, "At least I try to."

"You do," Uncle Bobby confirmed, "And you've saved a lot of good people, Lena. I might not like that you've become a hunter, but you didn't pick the life. The life picked you. If Zach and Gwen didn't make that deal, you could've grown up to be just another little girl that'd still be going to school and living a normal life."

"Do you know what they sold their souls for?" I always wanted to know.

"Well," he began, "For you."

"Me?" I gave him a look, "What do you mean, me?"

"Your mom couldn't get pregnant," Uncle Bobby explained, "So, she went to a crossroads and begged for her fertility. Nine months later, you came along. But because her body wasn't meant to get pregnant, your mom had a lot of problems in her pregnancy. One that nearly killed her and you. Which led your old man to make the deal he made. And six months after you were born, we know what happened after that."

"So," I felt a sudden rush of guilt, "They sold their souls, so I could live…?"

"They literally gave their lives for you," he nodded, "Don't ever let that be in vein."

Instantly, I had a flashback to being in Hartford the day of Mel's funeral. And Cas having to take my knife away. Don't do it, Lena. You know Uncle Bobby knows your tells. Do not let him see you sweat. He doesn't need to know you were having problems. He's seeing you as a rock for Sam and Dean. Do not turn into quicksand.

"I won't," I barely spoke above a whisper, "Thanks, Uncle Bobby."

"You know what?" he held me a little tighter, "If anything, Lucifer should be afraid of you."

"You're overselling me a bit."

"And you're underestimating yourself," Uncle Bobby gave me a poke in the nose while simultaneously yanking my cigarette out of my mouth, "And those damn things'll kill you."

"Can you blame me, though?" I giggled, "Given what I do? You can't blame me for having my vices."

"Understandable," he let it go, "This whole Lucifer thing…You can get through this, sweetheart."

"Or I'll die trying."

"As nice as it'd be to have you upstairs," Uncle Bobby scolded, "No. That's not an option. They need you as much as you need them."

"Ok," I put Dean's lighter back in my pocket, "Hey, Uncle Bobby…?"

"What?"

"Have you been in the garage since you've been here?" I smiled.

"No," he questioned my sanity, "Why? What's that got to do with anything?"

"My car's in there," I melted, "Dean fixed her for me. He picked up your slack."

"What was I going to do?" Uncle Bobby squeaked, "I was dead.

"I'd kill to go on a night drive," I sighed, "But unfortunately…"

"I know," Uncle Bobby took my hand, "Come on. Let's go back inside and get you in the books, ok?"

"Ok." It's good to know that, despite the rocky start, nothing's changed. Uncle Bobby always knew exactly what to say and when to say it. And he always knew how to make me feel better when I got on my self-depreciating kicks like that.

Once we got back inside, I threw myself in the library, making myself a nest. Every single book in there was a different language than the next, but I could manage to figure some things out. The main takeaway from most of these books, though? There's nothing on Lucifer and there's not even anything on archangels. So much for knowledge being power.

"Cas, you're an angel," I called out, "And Lucifer's technically an angel. Can an angel blade take out Lucifer?"

"Theoretically," Cas nodded, sitting on the floor with me in my corner of the world, "But that would involve getting close to Lucifer. Melee is no use when we need a range."

"That's it," I jumped up to my feet, "My head hurts. I'm going to bed."

"Night, Lena," Sam didn't even look up, "You need any painkillers?"

"I'm good," I assured, "Just sleep."

"Good night, pumpkin," Uncle Bobby sent me off and I went into my room. Just a few hours of sleep. That's all I needed. Then, I could go back to finding some way to kick Lucifer's ass. Until then, I needed to visit someone very near and dear to my heart.

I walked through the halls of a luxury apartment building and into a beautiful penthouse that seemed to perpetually be in night with the most sparkling sky. Sure enough, I found an even more beautiful man stretched out on his couch with a book in his hand. Yes, this is my fantasy. Is it such a shame that I'd want a man that's well read and possibly educated?

"Hello, Fredrico," I swooned.

"Buenos noches, hermosa," Fredrico smiled, putting his book down, "I didn't hear you come in. You seem tense, mi amor. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," I sat with him, immediately falling into his embrace, "I'm ok."

"Are you sure?" he cradled me against his chest, "Let me help you relax."

"I'm fine, Fredrico," I assured, "Don't worry about it."

"I mean," Fredrico hummed, "If I had Lucifer after me, I'd be pretty uptight."

"How do you…?"

"I'm in your head," he pointed out, "There aren't any secrets between us."

"Right," I cuddled into him, feeling kind of stupid.

"How about this?" Fredrico proposed, "Let's order some wine and some chocolate covered strawberries and I'll run you a bubble bath? Perhaps we could even take it together."

"That sounds perfect," I let him up, "Please."

Knock, knock.

"They're already here," he kissed my forehead.

"Yikes, kiddo," the delivery guy cringed, barging into Fredrico's penthouse, "These are what your dirty dreams look like? Honestly, I've seen porn sexier than this. This feels like a bad erotic novel."

"Who are you?" I gave him a look, "You've never been here. And Fredrico keeps to himself. That's part of his charm."

"Well," he kicked his feet up, taking one of the strawberries, "They've called me many names over the years. I've been called a trickster. I've been called Loki. I've been called Daddy, but that's only in the approved parameters."

"Who are you?" I pulled my blade out of my boot. Even in my dreams, I'm a bit paranoid. After that run-in with the djinn, I've become more of a boy scout.

"Put that away, Lena," he rolled his eyes, "That wouldn't do jack on me anyway. Fredrico? Do you mind?"

The delivery guy sent Fredrico off to God only knows where. This is all just a dream, Lena. You're in complete control here. I pointed the tip of the blade at this guy's throat, "I'll ask again. Who are you?"

"You don't strike me as the type to be into knife play, sister."

"Am I being African dream rooted?" I assumed, pushing the edge of the blade into him, "I've never seen you a day in my life. How in the hell are you in my dreams, let alone my dirty ones?"

"You really are a Winchester," he chuckled, "They call me Gabriel."

"Gabriel?" I thought it over. I heard Sam mention the name once when we were in Vegas hunting those witches that turned Dean into a pain in my ass. If I remember correctly, Sam said he was dead, "Who are you really?"

"Gabriel," he repeated, "Didn't I just tell you that?"

"Christo," I stared him dead in the eyes.

"Please," Gabriel smirked, "That's my father. You can call me Gabriel. I'm not a demon. Pinky promise."

"What are you doing in my dream, Gabriel?" I asked, "I thought you were dead."

"He thought he killed me, huh?" he giggled to himself, "Nope. Came pretty damn close, but dear old Dad was kind enough to heal me up and now, I'm back in fighting shape. Not that I'm in any mood to fight."

"Dad?" I wondered, "Chuck?"

"That'd be the one," Gabriel pulled me into his lap, taking my knife away, "So, rumor has it, Luci's looking for you, golden child."

"Since you're an angel," I figured, "You wouldn't happen to know of a way to stop him, would you?"

"There is a way," he bounced me on his knee, "Out of the goodness of my heart, I could tell you."

"But are you going to?" I kept my fingers crossed.

"Probably not," Gabriel helped me up, "But I'll be preoccupied at a bar in Tijuana with some beautiful ladies."

"What's stopping me from taking your blade from you and making sure you stay dead?" I threatened.

"I like your gumption, kid," he praised, "I'm not just any old angel. It takes an archangel to beat an archangel. And guess what I am."

"You're an archangel."

"That's right," Gabriel nodded.

"So, you'll help us?"

"Hell no," he shot me down, "I told you. TJ. Mujeres hermosas."

"So, you're saying," I was done with him already and fought every urge I had to punch him, "You're not going to help us. Chuck isn't going to help us. We're royally boned."

"Not necessarily," Gabriel settled me, "Come on, Lena. Keep your head up. You can do anything you set your mind to."

"I don't speak after school special," I rolled my eyes, "What do we do, Gabriel?"

"Alright, look," he caved, "Because I kind of like you, I'll give you a little tip. There is a way for you to stop him. You'll need a very powerful spell and an even more powerful caster."

"Where do I find this spell?" I asked.

"For any further details," Gabriel got up, "Ask your pal Crowley. He'll know. It's been a blast, Lena. Pleasure meeting you and Fredrico. I have a fiesta to attend. Hasta luego."

"Un momento, angelito," I stopped him, "Are you sure you won't join our crusade here?"

"So Lucifer can try and kill me again?" he scoffed, "No. I'm more ok with that whole self-preservation thing. The last time I put myself out there, I got an angel blade to the ribs. No, thanks. Give Sam and Dean a kiss for me!"

I woke up in my room in the bunker in a cold sweat. And not my usual cold sweat my Fredrico dreams give me. Angels. Tricky things. Archangels. Even worse. So, a powerful spell, huh? And I have to talk to Crowley for it? Weird. I'm sure he'd be cool with it. It's something for me and Crowley adores me. What do I have to lose?

 **A/N: Words cannot express how much I miss Gabriel. I absolutely love him. Also, he's a little shit and that's kind of a weakness of mine.**

 **So, I'm back. That's a thing. I've done this little speech three times now and I'm about to start doing a copy/paste situation. Long story short, I missed you, vacation wasn't great, and I'm not doing bomb week until July. Also, if updates are later or they seem lacking, it's really hard to get back into the swing of things after not writing for three weeks, so just be patient. But things are about to start getting interesting here, so please, for the love of Chuck, don't go anywhere. See you next chapter! xx**


	23. Wicked

I hoped Gabriel knew what he was talking about. Even more, I hoped Crowley could hook a sister up. Gabriel said he knew something, but then again, I didn't even know for sure that was really him. For all I knew, my subconscious was screwing with me. I had nothing to go off of other than my strong gut instinct. And God only knows how accurate that is.

I got out of bed and headed into the war room. Everyone sat around the table, bouncing ideas off each other, wondering what our next move should be. According to the angel in my dream, the only one who knew the right answer was the devil we knew and loved. I'm just glad there wasn't any bloodshed. By the way some of the arguments were going, that very well could've happened. Until I caught my brother's eye.

"Hey," Dean chimed, "Morning, sunshine. You feeling better? Head straighten out?"

"I'm not sure if that's what we can call it," I rubbed my eyes, "I'm still a bit out of sorts."

"What seems to be the problem, pumpkin?" Uncle Bobby asked, pulling a chair out for me.

"Weird dream," I sat down, "It started out as me having a really nice evening, but that's when it took a turn."

"What happened?" Sam wondered.

"I'm not sure," I bit my tongue, "But I think I was visited."

"What kind of visited?" Chuck asked.

"He said…" They were going to think I was nuts, but here goes nothing, "He said he was an angel. By the way…"

I stood on my toes, giving my brothers a quick kiss each. It was enough for Dean to blush a little, "What was that all about?"

"The angel from my dream sends his love," I explained, "He told me to give you two a kiss for him."

"Lena," Cas jumped on the defensive, "This angel…Did he tell you what his name was?"

"Gabriel."

Both Sam and Dean's hearts stopped as they exchanged nervous glances, "Are you sure it was Gabriel?"

"Positive," I nodded, "That's what he said. Asshat stole my chocolate covered strawberries and killed the mood."

"I know it's been a while since we've seen each other, Lena," Uncle Bobby cringed, "But your dreams worry me, kid."

"They shouldn't," Dean assured him. If anyone would know what my dreams were like, it'd be him. He's the only one that's been in my dreams. Even if they were brought on by a djinn. But Dean understood me a little better than everyone else. Except for maybe Chuck, but that was understandable. I'm sure God would get me, "Trust me, Bobby. Her dreams aren't always those of a middle-aged woman that's read one too many dirty books."

"I don't read dirty books," I argued.

"I'd like to weigh in on that," Chuck piped up, "You've read the Supernatural books, Lena. You've read the Ruby chapters."

"We don't talk about the Ruby chapters," Sam got defensive.

"But the Ruby chapters brought us the Castiel chapters," I shot a wink at my favorite little angel, "And those are some of my favorites."

"As much of a delight this is," Crowley pushed us along, "Do we or do we not have some sort of semblance of a plan? I have better things to do than watch paint dry here."

"Actually," I remembered, "Crowley, you and I need to talk."

"What did I do?" he squeaked, "I've been nothing but agreeable. I'm loyal, obedient. I've done nothing wrong for a change."

"It's about what Gabriel told me," I explained, "He told me that you have a spell for taking on Lucifer."

"Do I look like I have a library in my pocket?" Crowley scoffed, "Or that I'd know any spells, let alone one to take out Lucifer?"

"You may not." The gears started turning in Sam's head, "But you know someone that would. We know someone."

"No," Crowley put his foot down, "There has to be some other way. I'm sure you and Moose can figure something out. You always do. I believe in you. Go Team Free Will."

"We're low on options, Crowley," Dean scolded, "You're going to have to suck it up.:"

"What?" I wondered, "Is it an old girlfriend or something?"

"I wish," Crowley grumbled, "It'd be much easier."

"Come on, Crowley," Sam pushed him, "Suck up the mommy issues."

"Mommy issues?": I gave him a look, "Mommy?"

"Crowley's mom is a witch," Dean told me.

"That's one word for her," Crowley pouted in the corner, swirling scotch in his glass.

"Rowena could help us out," Sam pointed out, "And you know it. If you don't know the spell, she must be who Gabriel was talking about in Lena's dream."

"How do we even know it was really Gabriel?" Crowley argued, "Maybe it was just a figment of her imagination."

"No," Cas put his hand to my cheek, "She's definitely come into contact with some sort of celestial energy aside from me. And it feels a lot stronger than the average angel."

"Gabriel is an archangel," I remembered.

"Wait a sec," Sam stepped in, "I thought Gabriel was dead."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, "Didn't Lucifer shank him with an angel blade?"

"Well," Chuck bit his lip, "I did bring Gabriel back. After Lucifer stabbed him, I might have patched him up and he may be healing somewhere safe."

"He told me Tijuana," I chuckled a bit, "Mujeres hermosas. Mas tequila. All that happiness."

"Gabriel's in Tijuana?" Dean squeaked, "Awesome. Just awesome."

"Hold on," Sam thought for a minute, "How would Gabriel know...?"

"I'm not asking," Dean cut him off, "Call her, Crowley."

"I'd rather not," Crowley shot him down, "I'd rather a root canal."

"Do it," Dean started sounding like Sheriff Mills after I'd give her some sort of smartass comment. That was some grade A mom voice.

"No."

"Come on, Crowley," I charmed, sitting on his lap, making the biggest, most sparkly puppy eyes I could possibly muster up, "Please? For me? Nobody said you had to like it. By the way, have I ever told you the story of Vegas?"

"Vegas?" I piqued his interest, "What's Vegas? Aside from one of my favorite places in the world. High soul count. They don't call it Sin City for the tourists."

"Lena," Dean knew what Vegas meant, "No. Crowley doesn't need to know about that."

"Not that," I settled him, "Nothing to do with you, Dean. More so with Sam."

"And what's that, darling?" Crowley asked, "What happened in Vegas?"

"It's going to stay in Vegas," Dean grumbled.

"Dean, shut up," I rolled my eyes, "I said I wasn't telling him about you."

"Now, you've got me curious," Crowley smirked a bit.

"Uncle Bobby, do you mind?" I asked so sweetly.

"Shut your hole, Dean," Uncle Bobby gave him a swat to the back of his head.

"Thank you!" I beamed, "Now, in Vegas, Sam and I were after a small coven of witches. Three of them. They had a cheeky sense of humor and they got to Dean. That's all I'm going to say on the subject."

"What's the point of this little anecdote, Lena?" Crowley asked.

"I was hardly off my first hunt," I went on, "And I iced three witches like they were nothing. What's to stop me from doing the same with her?"

"Alright," he caved, taking his phone from his inner jacket pocket, scrolling through his contacts until he got to one appropriately labeled 'Wicked Bitch of the West'. I guess Crowley had mommy issues.

"What do you want?" an annoyed, thick Scottish accent groaned on the other end.

"Always lovely to hear from you, Mother," Crowley rolled his eyes, sharing her disdain.

"Rowena, it's Dean," my brother broke them up.

"Hello, Dean," she turned very pleasant, very quick, "What do you want? I'm a wee bit busy at the moment."

"Can't really do pleasantries," Dean brushed her off, "Look, we need your help. You think you can jump over to the bunker?"

"Give me one good reason why I should help you," she scoffed, "All you and your brother have done since day one was bring me suffering."

"We can spare your life," Dean rolled his eyes. On the phone with her barely a minute and he's already done with her. I could see it all over his face.

"That's not much of a choice," she teased, "You're going to have to do better than that."

"We're holding your son hostage," Sam chimed in.

"And?"

"Rowena," Dean let out a heavy sigh of defeat, "It's a Lucifer problem and we need you."

"Alright," she gave in, "Why didn't you tell me that in the first place? I'll be there soon!:

Click.

"Isn't she lovely?" Crowley grumbled, "Like a cactus enema."

I wrapped my arms around my favorite demon, "Who hurt you?"

"You'll see," he assured, "Mommy dearest is enough to make your skin crawl."

Knock, knock.

"You don't think...?" Sam and Dean exchanged glances.

"You can't tell?" Crowley whined, "The air dropped twenty degrees and everyone's locked their doors. Maybe if we're really quiet, she won't know we're here."

"Is she really that bad?" Uncle Bobby jabbed, "Come on, Crowley. You're being a little over dramatic. Even for you."

"I got it," I got up from Crowley's lap and went to the door. On the other side stood a woman with impatience all over her face, "Hi."

"Oh my," she looked me over, her face starting to lighten up, "You're new. And adorable. Are you the Winchesters' save of the week?"

"I'm their sister," I corrected, letting her in. This must be Rowena, "I'm also the one that Lucifer's after. We need a powerful spell to take him down."

"Do you?" she skipped down the stairs.

"And an even more powerful caster."

"Well now," I had her, "That brought me back."

"When?" I wondered. Maybe if I make friends with her, she'll be more apt to comply.

"An old one night stand I had," Rowena sighed out, draping herself onto the table in the middle of the bunker's main room, "Long time ago. He was fun...Passionate...Loud...He told me I was the most powerful witch he ever had the pleasure of sleeping with. We stayed up until dawn with nothing between us but a bottle of champagne and chocolate covered strawberries."

"If you'll excuse me," Crowley got up, "I'll be over here, dry heaving."

"I second that," Cas agreed.

"Hold on," I started piecing things together, "Was his name Gabriel?"

"It might have been," Rowena gave me a look, "Why?"

"Rowena?" Dean snapped her out of her nostalgic haze, "Little help please?"

"At least the girl's polite," she scoffed, "What do you need?"

"Banishment," Chuck decided, "For Lucifer."

"I'll see what I can do," Rowena bargained, "Only if you promise to leave me alone. You boys get yourselves into something, you can get yourselves out of it. I have bigger and better things to be wasting my time with. Do you know how therapeutic knitting is? It's even better when it's on a private island in the middle of the Carribbean."

"Deal," Dean allowed, "What do you need for the spell?"

"Few crystals," she thought, "Blood of the divine. Couple miscellaneous herbs. And blood of the object."

"Cas?" Dean requested, "Are you good to bleed for her?"

"Yes," Cas nodded.

"You want some of mine, too?" Chuck offered, "Double the divine, double the power?"

"Can't hurt," Rowena let it slide, "And with it being Lucifer, I'm sure we could use all the help we could get."

"What's the object?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Rowena shrugged, "That's where the page cuts off. I don't remember the rest of it and that corner of my notes was used for something else."

"Flavor of the week give you his phone number?" Crowley assumed.

"No," she glared a hole through him, "It was more or less burned. With a little bit of salvia in it for a friend I had in the sixties."

"Just don't mix it with jimsonweed," I cringed, "Not a good idea."

"Of course not," Rowena gasped, "You don't ever mix your herbs like that."

"I'm just saying," I tried to cover myself.

"I'll get started then," she gathered herself and her big book of spells and took my hand, "You come with me."

"Why?" Sam jumped on the defensive.

"Relax," Rowena rolled her eyes, "I'm not going to do anything. I'm curious about her. Like I said, she's actually polite. I like her."

"I'll be fine," I assured, "Remember Vegas, Sam. I can handle this."

"Alright," he let me go. It wouldn't be my first time hanging with a witch. Probably won't be my last. I showed Rowena to the dungeon. I'm sure this would be the best spot for her to work.

"What did you say your name was, darling?" she asked me, her hands cradling my face.

"Lena," I introduced myself.

"And do you know why Lucifer wants you?"

"No," I shook my head, "All I know is that he put a bounty on me and it's been out since I was a baby."

"And he can't have her," Crowley slinked out of the shadows.

"It'd really help if we knew, though," I sat at the edge of the altar table, "Hey, Crowley, how much do you love me?"

"Love is a strong word, dear," Crowley looked at me like I was on drugs, "Why?"

"You could find out what Lucifer wants, right?"

"I don't love you that much," he shot me down, "Although, if you'll excuse me, I have a thing to do."

Poof. And just like that he was gone, "Would it kill him to say goodbye?"

"We don't need him," Rowena promised, "Let's get to work, shall we?"

 **A/N: So, now, we're about to get into the thick of the battle here. Cue the Rocky theme and Eye of the Tiger. And we have Rowena! I can't tell you how much I love her. She's so precious. And I have a headcanon she screwed around with Gabriel. Fite me. But please don't because I'm a smol. See you next chapter! xx**


	24. The Object

After what felt like hours of watching Rowena work, I couldn't do it anymore. I was so bored I couldn't stand myself. So, I left her to her devices and went back upstairs. She had everything except for the blood of the divine and the blood of the object. Whatever that was supposed to mean. The object was a bit on the vague side. It could be anything. It could be in a damn gerbil for all we know.

Once I got upstairs, a soft rumble of thunder echoed through the bunker. If I get to sleep tonight, I'm sleeping like a rock. Something about a rainy day in the bunker sounded so nice and peaceful. I had a feeling that would be what my Heaven looked like. According to Cas, it's different for everyone. Maybe this was mine. It'd be even better if I wasn't being head hunted by Lucifer, but here we are.

"Hey," I caught Sam's attention, "You doing ok, Lena?"

"Yeah," I sat down at the table with my brothers and my uncle, "I'm fine. For what it's worth anyway."

"All things considered," Dean applauded, "You've been taking this Lucifer crap like a champ, kid."

"Not sure what that says about me as a person," I laid my head on his shoulder, "But I'll take it as a compliment."

"Well," Uncle Bobby chimed in, "We still got a job to do. You got anything, pumpkin?"

"Rowena's working on it," I let out a tiny yawn, completely drained from the whole ordeal, "What about you guys?"

"Not yet," Dean threw an arm around me, "We're stumped on the whole object thing."

"You think Gabriel would know?" Sam wondered.

"I doubt it," Dean grumbled, "Gabriel's not exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer."

"You underestimate him," Cas stepped in, "Gabriel may not seem very intelligent, but he is. Although, I doubt he was in any of Rowena's spell books."

"He was too busy in Rowena," Dean joked, completely warranting the bitch face Cas gave him, "Speaking of, Lena, how has bonding with Rowena been?"

"Not bad," I admitted, "She's a peach."

"Really?" Sam questioned my sanity, "You're getting along with a witch?"

"Hey," I defended, "I got along with the witches in Vegas, too. But they were trying to kill one brother and they already got to my other brother, so after that, we didn't really get along very well."

"What's this I keep hearing about the Vegas incident?" Uncle Bobby asked, "What happened in Vegas that was so bad?"

"Lena," Dean glared at me, "I swear to God, you say anything..."

"What are you going to do, Dean?" Uncle Bobby defended me, "Please. Tell us."

"Nothing..." his eyes dropped to the tabletop.

"Damn right, nothing."

"In Vegas," I began, "There was a coven of witches with a really wicked sense of humor. Dean was getting handsy from what I understand and they made sure he woke up with a hex bag under his bed and as a woman."

"What?" Uncle Bobby looked over at Dean, who was trying to make his head and the table become one.

"We don't talk about it," Cas leaned in, "Dean's rather sensitive about it."

"Getting back to the real issues here," Dean grumbled, "How the hell was Rowena a peach?"

"Just that," I shrugged, "She's been nothing but a sweetheart to me."

"Something about that doesn't sit well," he worried.

"I know she's a slippery thing," I assured, "But she does have a nice side. Are you boys really that cynical?"

"It comes with the job," Uncle Bobby chuckled to himself, "If you haven't developed it yet, you will."

"Hey," I did a quick scan around the room, "Aren't we short a body? Where's Chuck?"

"Heaven," Cas explained, "There are demons crawling all over and he had to go protect the rest of us."

"I thought Crowley called them all off," I remembered.

"I don't doubt that," Dean nodded, "But if Lucifer's the one pulling the strings, I'm sure they'll follow him over Crowley."

"I'm done with this," I got up, "Take me to Lucifer."

"No."

"No," Sam agreed.

"No," Cas followed suit.

"HELL no," Uncle Bobby gave me a swat upside my head, "Are you nuts?"

"No," I sighed out, "I'm tired. All of you are more than ready to jump in front of this Lucifer bullet for me, but you don't need to go through that."

"Lena," he asked, "How long have you been with these two?"

"A while."

"And you don't know how they work?" Uncle Bobby gave me a look, "Come on."

"Besides," Dean winced, "Hell isn't exactly pleasant."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, "And being buddy-buddy with Lucifer isn't something you deserve."

Knock, knock.

"Who the hell...?" Dean looked up at the door.

"Hold on," I went up the stairs, waiting for another knock, "Who is it?"

"The bloody pizza man!" an angry voice growled on the other side, "Who else?"

I opened the door for the bitter demon waiting for me, "Hi, Crowley! Long time, no see."

"Damn warding," he grumbled.

"Crowley," Sam wondered, "Where the hell have you been?"

"Weren't you just downstairs with Rowena?" Dean shared his brother's confused sentiment.

"Didn't Lena tell you?" the two of us walked down the stairs together, "I was downstairs but not your downstairs. I took a quick trip to Hell. Needed to check on the children. You know how it is."

"And?" Uncle Bobby jumped in, "What'd you find out?"

"Nothing too exciting," Crowley pulled up a chair.

"Tell us," Cas begged, "Anything can help at this point."

"Look at this," Crowley grinned darkly, "I have an angel begging at my feet. I like that kind of a power trip."

"Crowley," Dean rolled his eyes, "What do you got?"

"Well," he spun around in his chair, "Turns out the herbal enthusiast that Mother was so kind to help out in the sixties was undergoing some torture in Hell, so I decided to go see her. Not often I do house calls anymore, but she remembers what the rest of the page said that she smoked her joint with."

"And?" I got a little excited, "What'd it say?"

"The object isn't meant to be an ominous thing," Crowley went on, "It got cut off. Going by what we know now, the blood we need for the spell is Lena's."

"Me?" I was lost "Why me?"

"Because," he explained, "The object is meant to say the object of desire. In this case, the object of Lucifer's desire is you, Lena."

"Wait a minute," I needed to backtrack here, "So, you're saying the reason Lucifer's after me is because he's in love with me? Gross, dude."

"I don't think that's it," Crowley thought out loud, "But if that's how you want to interpret it. Either way, it's your blood we need for this spell to work."

"I have to bleed for this?" I grumbled, "Awesome. That's not going to bring back bad memories."

"Sorry, kiddo," Dean hugged me tight, "Looks like it."

"Why me?" I whined, "Why does Lucifer have to have a thing for me?"

"We don't know," he kissed the top of my head, "But we'll take care of it, ok? Together like we always do."

"I just hope no one pops the cage," I let out a heavy sigh, "The sooner we can get this done and over with, the better."

"Amen."

"So?" Rowena sang, joining the rest of us, "Did you figure out what the object is?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "The object of Lucifer's desire. It's me."

"Wonderful!" she beamed, "And I thought it was going to be complicated. Are you ready to bleed then?"

"I'm going outside first," I took the lighter out of Dean's pocket, "If that's alright with you."

"Not by yourself," Sam put his foot down, "If something happens, Lena..."

"I'll be fine," I cut him off, "Don't worry."

"Ok..." he let it go.

But of course, I wasn't going outside without adult supervision. Well...Relative adult supervision. And probably the best protection I could ask for in the whole bunker. The nuns weren't joking when they said I had an angel watching over me. As far as angels that I've met go, Cas is a personal favorite.

"You know," I lit my cigarette, "You don't have to stay out here, Cas."

"Yes, I do."

"No, you don't," I assured, "I'm fine. I just want to be alone for a bit. I thought I was going to get that, but alas, here we are."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Cas offered.

"What's my last name, sweetie?" I joked darkly, "Do you really think I want to get touchy feely and talk about my feelings?"

"It's possible," he figured, "You were adopted into the Winchester family. Informally."

"Please," I blew out a little cloud of smoke, "I just want to be alone."

"But you don't have to be," Cas stuck to his guns, "You know, you really are more Winchester than you know. You share the same stubbornness they have. The same mannerisms. The same tragic backstory. But you're still so different from them. Yet they accept you as their own. You're not some stray to them, Lena. You're family. If anyone understands that, it's me. I, too, was once a stray that Sam and Dean took in. Although, I sort of blew up a barn the first time I met Dean on Earth."

"Wow," I giggled, "And I thought I was extra. Trying to impress him, were we?"

"I pulled him out of Hell," I got a little smile out of him, "I think that's impressive enough. I'm glad he didn't remember the worst of it. He was rough when I found him. A completely different monster. You don't want to be down there. Trust me."

"I could've told you that," I scoffed, "They don't call it Camp Happy Fun Time."

"And Lucifer can't have you," Cas promised, "He won't. As long as you're here, you're safe."

"But why me, though?" I pouted, "Out of everyone else in the world, why did it have to be me? I don't want to be the object."

"I know you don't," he took my hand, "But you're special. You'll be ok. Whether you know it now or not, you'll be ok, Lena. I swear to you. Lucifer won't have you. Look at all the times before you've managed to elude him. I'm sure a third time's a charm."

"Thanks, Cas," I knew he was trying to make me feel better about this whole thing. And honestly, it worked a little. It's nice to know there's people that got my back, "I'll be in soon."

"Ok." And on that note, I finished my cigarette and flicked it out into the road. We can do this. Just have to trust them. They've fought Lucifer before. I've read all about it. I know damn well they can do it again. We'll kick ass and take names like any other day. We got this. I got an angel on my shoulder, God on my side, the devil we know, and three of the best hunters to ever walk the face of this Earth. Come at me, Lucifer. I dare you.

 **A/N: First, real quick, We're going to be hiatusing for a bit. I won't be posting to this story again until July 24** **th** **. But! From the 24** **th** **to the 28** **th** **, it'll be updates every day, so look on the bright side. I told you I was going to bring Bomb Week to July and I'll be damned if I go back on that. So! Story!**

 **This was kind of a filler and I know I rushed this update, but I also have another one to do and I got family coming to town tomorrow. Regardless, the object? Lena. We'll find out more about that in the next chapter. Because…Well, shit's going down, just keep that in mind. Bomb Week is going to be a bit exciting. And it'll probably bring the end of the story. I've been posting to this since January and we're over 10K views as of a couple days ago, so we got that going for us. Don't be shy. Give me your thoughts, comments, questions, concerns, and I'll see you next chapter! xx**


	25. Cast Away

**A/N: Hello, everybody! How are we doing? Alright? Alright. Welcome, dear children to Supernatural Bomb Week! *applause, applause, assorted fanfare* From today, all the way until Friday, it's you and me, kids. But because it's been three and a half weeks since we've last spoken to each other, how about a recap?**

 **So, things aren't exactly kosher in the Winchester household. Lucifer's wanting Lena. Sam and Dean aren't going to have that. Her Uncle Bobby isn't going to have that. Her angel on her shoulder isn't having that either. Fortunately, thanks to Gabriel showing up and ruining one of her dirty dreams, the neon sign pointed to Rowena for some help. And to do that, she needs miscellaneous herbs, a crystal or two, the blood of the divine (So, Cas), and the blood of the object. For a while, that had them stumped. However, with Crowley's help, he managed to find out what the rest of the page said. The object of Lucifer's desire. Or, Lena. Now that you're all caught up, let's get back into the thick of things, yeah?**

"Hey," Dean chimed as Cas and I walked back into the bunker, "About time you crazy kids get back. Feels like you've been gone for almost a month."

"Ha, ha," I rolled my eyes, "I haven't been gone that long. And look at that. The bunker's still standing. You and Sam aren't trying to out brood each other. Everything's fine."

"Hey!" Sam squeaked, "Bobby!"

'Sorry, boys," Uncle bobby took my side, "Lena's been around you for a while now. She's got you two pegged."

"And you can both manage without me for a bit," I finished, kicking my feet up on the table, "I'd say a job well done."

"Are you two sure she's not related to you?" Crowley asked, "Because those were your words coming out of her mouth."

"Positive," Dean assured him.

"Have you looked into it?" I wondered, "You sounded awfully sure of yourself."

"Trust me, pumpkin," Uncle Bobby stepped in, "Your parents wouldn't have screwed around on each other. They were diabetically in love. Not to mention, they were pretty young when Mary died. Your mom liked them older, but I think John would've been her limit."

"Hey, Bobby," Sam asked, "How did you know Lena's parents?"

"Gwen grew up next door," he spun the tale, "Sweet kid. A lot like you, Lena. Just without the cynicism."

"Hey!" I pouted, "I like my cynicism."

"Gwen ran around in the scrapyard a lot," Uncle Bobby went on, "Her first boyfriend met me before her own father. Zack, too. But I knew that punk, too..."

"Sounds familiar," Dean nudged me under the table, "You think your old man had frequent flyer miles in the Sioux Falls Juvenile Detention Center, too?"

"Dean..." I growled, biting my lip while Uncle Bobby's blood boiled.

"Excuse me...?" he glared through me.

In that moment, Dean realized he said something he shouldn't have, "Uh, Lena...?"

"Yes, Dean?" I was damn near hiding under the table.

"Bobby didn't know about your police record, did he...?"

"No, Dean," I sighed out, "He did not."

"When, Lena?" Uncle Bobby fumed, "When were you arrested?"

"Which time?" I mumbled under my breath.

"Which time?" the vein stood out more and more in his forehead, "The first one."

"I was twelve," I thought back, "I think it was a vandalism thing."

"And the second time?"

"Another vandalism charge," I cringed, "Maybe curfew."

"Lena," Uncle Bobby scolded, "How many times have you been in handcuffs?"

"Six," I did a quick count in my head.

"Honest to God," he let out a heavy, exasperated sigh, "Just when I thought I did something right with you."

"What can I say?" I shrugged, "I guess I had a bit of a wild streak in me. A lot of hail Mary came out of my mouth for them. The nuns made sure of that. Almost went into self-flagellation, but they couldn't do that legally."

"Always knew those nuns were shifty," Uncle Bobby winced, "Glad you got out of that."

"Sucks that it had to be with a fire," I pointed out, "But I kind of like where it landed me. Parts of it anyway."

"Thanks, Lena," Sam gave me a little smile.

"Never said it was you two," I teased, "Did I not just meet God a few days ago? And I didn't even have to die for it to happen!"

"You met Chuck before you met us," Dean reminded, "Chuck's the one that told you to find us."

"He didn't say to find you specifically," I scoffed, "Don't be so full of yourself."

"Oh, I like her," Crowley grinned darkly, "Really and truly, Lena, if you weren't so tied in with those two, I wouldn't hesitate to snap you up. You'd make a hell of a succubus demon."

"Sorry," I bit my lip, "Already have Lucifer after me. Don't need another King of Hell after me, too."

"Crowley," Cas shot him a look, "No."

"I can behave myself," Crowley promised, "I have my own ass to look after. I don't need to put a target on my back, too."

"Well," Rowena came back upstairs, "After being locked away in the dungeon, I think we're ready."

"Cas," I took his arm, "You think you could get a hold of Chuck for us?"

"I can try," he cradled my face in his hand, "I'm so sorry, Lena."

"Don't beat yourself up," I smiled, "You didn't know I'd be Lucifer's type. Now, go get Chuck."

"I will." And just like that, Cas blipped out of existence.

"What's next?" Sam asked.

"The blood of the divine just left," Rowena pointed out.

"I'm going to go lay down for a bit," I told, heading toward my bedroom, "Give me a yell when Cas and Chuck get back."

"I'll go with you," Sam offered.

"I appreciate it, Sammy," I kept on walking, "But you don't have to...I don't know why I bother fighting it anymore."

"Look at you," Dean awed, "You're learning."

"Shut up," I rolled my eyes and went into Sam's room. We had an unspoken rule in the bunker. Nobody goes into my room. I can go into Dean's, I can go into Sam's, but neither Sam or Dean could go into mine. And they were good enough to honor that. I don't think either one of them has ever seen the walls of my room. Maybe at one time, but not since I've been here.

"Hey, Lena," Sam sat on the edge of his bed, "Are you ok?"

"No," I shut him up, "Don't start with the touchy-feely crap, Sam. I'm not in the mood."

"Alright," he let me go, "But if you need someone to talk to..."

"I know," I kept him at arm's length, "I got you. I got Dean. I got Uncle Bobby. I got the whole damn family forest."

"Yes," Sam nodded, "But that's not what I was going to say. This whole Lucifer thing, I've seen it firsthand. The Supernatural books could only tell you so much. I've actually been in Lucifer's head and him in mine."

"That's fascinating, Sam," I laid my head on his shoulder, "But I'm pretty sure you don't know why he'd want me. You and Lucifer happened years ago. Do you have an updated copy of his mental state?"

"No..."

"I rest my case," I let out a tiny yawn, "Court dismissed. Bring in the dancing lobsters."

"Dancing lobsters?" Sam gave me a look, "Did you get into the salvia and the jimsonweed again?"

"No," I shut my eyes for a second or two, "I'm of relatively sound mind right now. Although, if I didn't have such a bad trip the first time around, I could stand some of that again."

"Really, though," he worried, "Are you ok?"

"No," I shook my head, "Hell no. You've had Lucifer after you. You know what it's like. Do you really expect me to be ok with that?"

"No," Sam wrapped his arms around me, "You're also not fighting this alone. You do know that, right?"

"I know," I curled into him, "I got my boys. I got my uncle. I got God and the King of Hell on my side and a power witch in my back pocket. I think I'm good."

"Then, what has you so freaked?" he wondered.

"I don't know," I sighed, "The fact that it's Lucifer. Concentrated, supreme evil. I'd say that God only knows what he has planned for me if he does get his hands on me, but God doesn't even know. Sammy, I'm scared."

"We have plenty of time to be scared once we take him out," Sam tried to comfort me, "But until then, we have to kick ass and take names, ok?"

"Ok..."

"Lena," his embrace tightened, "We won't let anything happen to you. You've seen our track record. We're at a 99.9% success rate."

"And that other 0.1%?"

"We don't talk about it," Sam swept it under the rug, "We don't need to worry about it."

"If I remember correctly," I pointed out, "Both you and Dean once told me that we can't save everyone."

"But you're not just anyone," he kissed the top of my head, "Rest up, kiddo. This is probably the biggest hunt we'll ever have you on. You're going to need it."

"Alright," I nestled down into Sam's bed and shut my eyes for a little longer. It really is nice when those boys genuinely care about me. And Sam did have a point. He's had Lucifer in him and him in Lucifer. Maybe Sam would have a little more insight on things. But until then, I was going to listen to him and get a quick nap in.

Usually, if I were to take a nap, it wouldn't be very heavy unless it was in the back of the car. However, Sam's bed worked like Ambien for me. When I woke up, I looked over at the clock. Damn near midnight. My ten-minute nap turned into sleeping a solid eight hours for the first time in I don't even know how long. I could hear a muffled argument outside the door.

"I'm not doing it," Sam protested, "I put her to bed. You can wake her."

"I'd like to get out of here in one piece," Dean retaliated, "No freakin' way."

"Rock, paper, scissors for it?"

"Move, you idjits," I knew exactly who was coming to wake me up. As the door hinges squeaked, I shut my eyes again, feeling a hand on my shoulder, "Lena...Wake up, pumpkin. We got work to do."

"Ok," I sighed out sweetly, opening my eyes again, "Are Cas and Chuck back yet?"

"Have been for a couple hours now," Uncle Bobby pushed my hair out of my face, "We thought we'd let you get some sleep."

"Awfully sweet of you," I sat up, rolling into his shoulder, "How long have I been out?"

"Probably eight hours," he figured, "Are you ready?"

"Ish," I chuckled nervously, "Will I be able to go back to sleep after this?"

"God willing," Uncle Bobby cradled me, "Come on. We shouldn't keep Rowena waiting."

"Ok," I pulled myself out of Sam's bed and followed my brothers to the dungeon. Cas and Chuck waited for us at the bottom of the stairs, "Gentlemen..."

"Morning, Lena," Chuck greeted me, "You look well-rested."

"As well rested as I'm going to get." In times of high stress, I sleep long and I sleep hard. It's a curse, "Well? Shall we? Rowena, is there any kind of special blade we need for this?"

"No," Rowena added another couple of herbs to her bowl, "I don't think so anyway."

"We'll go with silver," Dean suggested, "Just to be on the safe side?"

"I would," Sam agreed.

"We'll go with the holiest of silver then," Chuck told, "Castiel, your angel blade, please."

A shining, silver dagger slid out of Cas' coat sleeve, "Lena, give me your hand."

"Ok," I offered my hand to the angel and he slid his angel blade across my palm, slicing it open. My blood dripped into the bowl.

"Castiel? Chuck?" Rowena asked, "At the risk of getting some sort of disease."

"Hey!" I squeaked, "What did I ever do to you?"

"Nothing," she smiled at me, "You're like a daughter I never had."

"Oi!" Crowley pouted, "What about me?"

"She didn't give me stretch marks," Rowena wrapped my hand up, "Unnecessary stress…I can be in a room with her and not feel the urge to throw up."

"I love you, too, Mommy…"

Cas and Chuck cut their respective hands open and bled into the bowl for me. Weird. Not many can say they've had an angel and God bleed for them, I'm sure. This would probably stick in the paw of the Westboro Baptist Church. The nuns that would've beaten me within an inch of my life would've swooned.

I know I'm kind of new to how this whole spell thing works, but isn't there supposed to be some sort of fanfare? Pretty sure adding the blood of God to anything would warrant a little bit of fireworks. Something, anything. Not even a spark. Did we not do it right or…?

"Rowena," Dean shared my sentiment, taking a quick glance around the room, "What the hell?"

"I…" Rowena stared into the bowl, "I don't understand."

"Nothing's happening."

"I see that, Dean!" she snapped, "I'm trying to figure out why! Now, I can't do that with a whiny little brat breathing down my neck!"

The room went silent. Except for Crowley, who couldn't keep his mouth shut, "I think you've successfully pissed off another witch, Dean…"

"NOBODY ASKED FOR YOU, FERGUS!" Yeah. I think it's safe to say Rowena was genuinely pissed, "It's a rarity I ever have this kind of spell slip through my fingers. Gabriel said I was a powerful caster. Everything was flawless. WHY ISN'T IT WORKING?!"

"Rowena," I tried to settle her, "Do you know what could've possibly went wrong?"

"I'm sorry, dear," she shook, "This is beyond me. Maybe another caster, but that would mean finding another witch in the near proximity with my kind of power. Your local wiccan wouldn't be able to pull this kind of spell work off."

"We'll find another way," I assured, taking her hand, "I'm almost positive."

"Wait a minute," I thought it over, "Chuck, couldn't you bring someone else back to life like you did with Uncle Bobby?"

"And keep the natural order of things?" Chuck scoffed, "No. I'm sorry, Lena, but Bobby was the only one I could get my hands on for the time being."

"Damn…" I was stumped. I really thought this spell would've done something. Oh, well…Looks like it's back to the drawing board…

 **A/N: So much for that idea. We all go home a little discouraged. Fear not, though. Winchesters never give up and they never surrender. We kick ass, we take names, we grab our little brothers, and we score some pie. That's how things work. We keep on fighting. Now, just so it doesn't come as a shock to you guys, I have all intentions of ending this story by Friday. I have it all plotted out and then, I don't know what I'm going to do. Will I start a sequel? Will I let this die? Is everyone going to die come Friday? I don't know. Luckily for you, you only have to wait until tomorrow for another chapter. So, on that note, I'll see you next chapter. xx**


	26. Your Friendly Neighborhood Pizza Man

**A/N: Hi, guys! Happy Day Two! Now, I've been out all day, so I have a feeling my hands are going to be ready to fall off by the time I get done. Enjoy the suffering my art has brought me.**

I wish I could say that this was the part of every story where things seem bleak for our heroes, but they're about to get better. This did have sports movie vibe about it and the underdogs were about to come back and win the big game. The quarterback was going to get the pretty cheerleader and they'd all live happily ever after. Unfortunately, Disney never told the story about the little girl being sought after by Lucifer.

We were boned. There was no delicate way of putting it. The optimistic crap I told Rowena was to keep her from killing us all. I knew how this was going to end. Bloody. Unnecessarily bloody. Do I want to be with Lucifer, doing whatever it is he wants me for? No. Do I want my brothers possibly dying over it? Hell no.

Rowena holed herself up in the dungeon, trying to figure out what's keeping her, while the rest of us went in separate directions. Chuck still needed to keep a watchful eye over Heaven and could use all the manpower he could get. Even Crowley left to look in on Hell. That left my brothers, my uncle, and me...

A year ago, I was just a high school kid that liked to get into trouble and cause mischief. I hung out with stoners, a reformed cokehead, and the mom that held them all together. Wake up, goto school, hang out with the band, deal with the nuns, jam, go to bed, repeat. I miss the days when things were that simple. Before I had monsters on my ass...

Why coudln't they have left me in Hartford? Why did they come in and stop that bum with the busted bottle? I could've bled out and I'd be less of a pain in the ass for them to deal with. No. Lena, you know damn well why they didn't leave you. Because we're family now. And in this family, we don't leave each other behind. They saw something in me.

What, I may never know, but here I am, spitting in the face of that second chance. What am I doing? I was supposed to die in a house fire when I was a baby, but I didn't. I was supposed to die in an orphanage fire when I was fourteen, but I didn't. I'm supposed to be brought to the feet of the damn devil himself, but there's no way in hell I'm going to. No sense in wallowing in self-pity like this.

"Boys," I pounded on their respective doors, "Get up."

"Not now, Lena," Dean grumbled on the other side.

"Come on," I kept knocking, "War room. Now."

"We appreciate the enthusiasm, Lena," Sam groaned, "But maybe you could tone it down a bit?"

"Nope!" I chirped, beating on the doors some more, "Come on, boys. Up. Now."

"Fine!" Dean was the first to come out of his room, "What do you want?"

"I got a sudden surge of energy," I made a beeline into the main room, "I feel like I could punch Lucifer right in the nads right now. No weapons."

"If you'll pardon the pun," he chuckled to himself, "That's pretty ballsy, kid."

"Uuuugggghhhhhh…"

"That's my girl," Uncle Bobby was already at the table, "Maybe you're more Singer than Winchester after all. Instead of bitching and moaning that won't get us anywhere, you got an idea."

"I never said I had an idea," I clarified, "But we could be making a more productive use of our time than accepting Lucifer as our lord and savior."

"And how do you propose we do that?" Dean sat down and cracked a beer on the table.

"We have to have something," I figured, "What about that weird gun you guys have? The one that can kill anything."

"The Colt can't kill Lucifer," Sam came out, "Been there, done that."

"Yeah," I remembered reading that. Stupid Lena.

"And there aren't any other spells in our vaults," Dean took my hand, "Valiant effort, kiddo, but we're not getting anywhere. All we can do is go down swinging."

"No," I refused, having my own movie moment, "I am not laying down here! Now, we could do it with conventional weapons that could take years and cost millions of lives. No, I think we have to go all out. I think that this situation absolutely requires a really futile and stupid gesture be done on somebody's part. And if being with you two has taught me anything, it's that we're just the idiots to do it!"

Sam and Dean exchanged glances. Another thing I've learned with those two. They can have a full conversation and not say a single word. I'm just hoping what I said clicked with them. After a moment of silent delegation between the two of them, I think they finally had come to a decision.

"Your optimism is sickening, Lena," Dean smirked a bit, "But only you could put things into perfect perspective with an Animal House reference."

"Hell yeah, I can!" I gave him a high five. Mission accomplished, "So, what do we do?"

"Look into every piece of lore we got on archangels," Sam suggested, "Find a way to take one out."

"Alright, boys!" I cheered, "Let's get down to business."

Sam and Dean left to the bunker's extensive collection of lore books and got to work. Damn, motivational speaking takes more out of me than I expected. A part of me wanted to steal some of Dean's beer, but it's bad enough I'm taking his whiskey without him knowing. I'll let him keep his beer.

"You missed your calling, pumpkin," Uncle Bobby jabbed.

"I'm still young yet," I scoffed, "I can still reach my calling."

"You're into this hunting thing too deep," he sighed out, "This has become your calling. Besides, someone's got to keep an eye on those two, so they don't kill each other."

"Why me, though?" I pouted, "You'd think that two grown men would be able to reason things out amongst themselves."

"You'd think," Uncle Bobby laughed, "But Sam and Dean have been butting heads for as long as I've known them. But when I look in on them once in a while from upstairs, they haven't been at odds nearly as much as they used to be. And there's only been one new factor introduced in the past year."

I thought for a minute or two, "Me?"

"Yahtzee."

"How have I been holding them together?" I wondered, "You're not getting senile on me, are you, old man?"

"I'm dead, Lena," Uncle Bobby gave me a shove, "I think the senility train left the station when my lights went out. Joke all you want, though. You've been the glue with those boys since you came into their lives. I didn't put two and two together that it was you until Chuck told me, but I'm not surprised. You always had that air of rainbows and sunshine about you, despite everything that's happened."

"I haven't been rainbows and sunshine in a long time, Uncle Bobby," I confessed, "I'm barely held together with duct tape. Hell, I need Cas to go on a smoke run for me when he gets back. Between you and me, I have a minibar under my bed. I'm not the saint you make me out to be."

"Never said you were," he assured, "I'm just saying, pumpkin. Don't leave them two unattended. That's when bad things happen."

"I should proobably go check on them," I figured, "Make sure they didn't kill each other."

"Good idea."

Knock, knock.

Immediately, I jumped, reaching for the gun under the table, "Go get Sam and Dean."

"Be careful," Uncle Bobby warned, "Don't do anything stupid."

"I won't," I walked up the stairs, gun in hand, and heard the knocks again. I deepened my voice a little, "Who is it?"

"Tengo su pizza, señorita.," a familiar voice answered.

Hold on...No freakin' way...Slowly, I cracked the door open, pointing the gun in the gap, " Dónde está mi pizza, angelito?"

"Lena!" the door flew open, "Weird seeing you not in your head. You're cuter in person. Don't be so hard on yourself."

"Lena?" Sam came out, "Everything alright...?"

"Yeah," I skipped down the stairs, "Everything's cool. Just the pizza man, but nobody ordered pizza. I almost shouldn't let you in because of that, Gabriel. You owe me a pizza."

"Gabriel?" Dean followed, "Like...Gabriel, Gabriel?"

"Your friendly neighborhood archangel," he sang, "Hiya, Dean, Sam! Long time, no see!"

"Lena," Dean looked over at me with worry in his eyes, "Is he legit?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "It's him."

"Hold on," Sam thought it over, "Gabriel, how did you know where we were? You've never seen the bunker."

"Maybe it was that giant bat signal you had in the sky," Gabriel figured, "That spell you casted? I thought I said to get an experienced caster to do that."

"We got the most powerful witch we know!" I defended, "And if I remember correctly, you're the one that told me to get her in the first place."

"What's with all the noise?!" Speak of the devil, "I'm trying to work down there and you bloody idiots are up here making all kinds of racket! Only Winchesters can take something simple like research and make it loud."

"Hey, baby..." Gabriel charmed, "Miss me?"

"I think I'm going to be sick," Dean gagged.

"Ditto," Sam agreed.

"Gabriel..." Rowena gasped. She slowly approached him, resting her hand on his chest, "Are you...real?"

"Genuine article," Gabriel promised, slipping her a quick kiss, "So, I ask again. Did you miss me?"

THWAPP!

Rowena's hand whipped across his face, "You leave without even the slightest courtesy? No goodbye? No one last night together? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I deserved that," he nursed his reddening cheek, "I'm sorry, Rowena. I had things to do. I should've left a note."

"YOU SENT A TEXT MESSAGE!" her tirade continued, "And not even a message! You just sent me a frowny face emoji! TWO WEEKS LATER!"

"Ouch," I cringed, "Sorry, Gabriel, but I'm going to have to take Rowena's side here."

"As much as this is tickling me," Dean broke them up, "What do you mean, bat signal?"

"You think I'm the only one that saw that?" Gabriel asked, "No, no, no...When Rowena casted that spell, you broadcasted a giant signal to every angel and archangel to ever exist. And who else would be included on that list?"

"Lucifer..." I shook.

"That's right," he nodded, "And if someone were to pop the gates of Hell right now, Luci wouldn't hesitate to jimmy the lock on the cage and pop right out."

"Where did I go wrong?" Rowena asked, "You owe me, Gabriel. At least help me with this spell."

"Did you get all the herbs right?"

"Yes."

"The crystals?"

"Yes."

"The two bloods?"

"We used three," I told him, "Mine, Cas, and Chuck. Figured having the blood of God couldn't hurt."

"But it did," Gabriel groaned, "We can't use Dad's blood for this. That's like the divine times infinity! Cas' blood is fine. My blood would be fine. GOD? Not cool. Not ok. Let's try this again. Where's your altar?"

"In the dungeon," Sam directed him.

"In your what?" Gabriel gave him a look, "Why, Sam, I never thought you'd ask."

"Gabriel," I stopped him, "Quit hitting on my brothers."

"I saw them first," he nudged me.

"Go."

We all went back down to the dungeon to try the spell again. Rowena had her herbs and crystals perfectly arranged and organized. All we needed was the blood again. I took my knife out of my boot and ran the blade over the freshly scabbed cut I made last time. No sense in making a new scar, right?

"Hold on," Gabriel did a head count, "We're short one. Where's my little brother?"

"Heaven," I brushed him off, "Come on, Gabriel. It's a few drops."

"Me?" he squeaked, "Oh, hell no. Don't get me wrong, Lena. You're a sweet kid, but I don't think so."

"What's the matter?" Dean taunted, "Scared of a knife?"

"After I had an angel blade shanked through my ribcage?" Gabriel scoffed, "Yeah! I don't do knives very well."

"I have a little suggestion," Rowena flirted a bit, "I think I know how I can get the blood of the divine from you..."

"Even after I left you?" Gabriel got her message, "You'd still be willing to do something like that for little old me?"

"You...Me..." she ran her fingers up his chest, "Good champagne...Chocolate covered strawberries..."

"Rowena, you minx," he smirked, "You know me all too well, don't you?"

"Ok," Dean cringed, "I really am going to be sick."

"Come on, sweetie," I took him out of there, "Let's go back upstairs. None of us need to see this. Just get the spell over with, Rowena."

"My pleasure," Rowena threw Gabriel's jacket aside and the rest of us went upstairs. After that, I think we could all use a little bit of whiskey.

 **A/N: So, we're attempting the spell again. And even better, Gabriel's here! He passed up TJ to come play with the Winchesters. Honestly, I'd do the same. Even stranger yet, I didn't intend for Gabriel to be back until tomorrow, so yay! Early presents are fun. Also, I love how Lena's become a motivational speaker. I, for one, find that adorable. Maybe that's just me, but I do. Update, though: My wrists are throbbing and I need to break for a while. See you next chapter! xx**


	27. Suppression is Our Friend

**A/N: Happy day three! I don't have too much to say quite yet except for the fact that it's going to get kind of cute in this chapter. Be prepared.**

Well...That happened. We're just going to pretend that the unholiness ensuing in the dungeon right now never happened. That's a suppressed memory for the therapist I'll never see to uncover when I'm thirty. If I ever make it to thirty. I'm not entirely sure what would kill me first at this point. Lucifer or the whiskey.

Knock, knock.

"Well?" I laid my head on the tabletop, "Anyone going to get that?"

"Not it," Dean finished glass number three.

"Not it," Sam groaned in the same rough shape.

"What are you, six?" I rolled my eyes. Unbelievable. Looks like I have to do it. I pushed myself up, "If it's Lucifer and he takes me right now, it'll be your faults."

"It's not Lucifer," Dean poured glass number four.

"Can't be too sure," I got up and grabbed the door with a silver knife in hand. No need, though, "Hi, sweetie."

"Hello, darling," Crowley came in, "What did I miss?"

"Don't ask," I snapped.

"Hey now," he did a glance around the room, "What happened here? Why all the long faces? If I didn't know any better, I'd think someone died."

"Not quite," Uncle Bobby cringed, "You really don't want to know."

"It's a bit of a downer," Crowley explained, "when everyone else looks so miserable and I'm not the cause of it. My inner sadist is left unsatisfied."

"Trust me, Crowley," I gagged.

"What's the matter, Lena?" he worried, having actual concern for me, "Did you and Moose accidentally walk in on Dean and Cas spooning or something?"

"I'd rather that," I took Dean's whiskey bottle.

"I swear to God, Crowley," Dean grumbled, "If you ask one more time..."

"Your mom's currently getting touched by an angel!" I blurted out, the whiskey giving me a little bit of bravery, "If you really wanted to know. The mental images are scarring enough."

"Excuse me...?" Crowley's eyes flashed red, "Which one?"

"Gabriel," I threw him under the bus, "Apparently, he broke her heart back in the day, too."

"She doesn't have one," he started to settle down. Thank God. I don't think I could handle a bitchy demon right now.

"I don't know, Crowley," Dean chimed in, "Rowena seemed pretty pissed. I'm sure if she had a glass of wine, it would've ended up in Gabriel's face."

"What kind of bad soap opera are you living in?" I wondered.

"And why is he going for round two?" Crowley shared in our misery.

"We needed blood of the divine," I filled him in, "Gabriel doesn't do knives, so Rowena's seducing it out of him."

"Sounds like something Mommy Dearest would do," he pulled up a seat next to me, "How do we know when it's safe to go back downstairs?"

"We don't," Sam slid the bottle down the line, "That's why we drink."

"You're too kind," Crowley did a shot right from the bottle, "Why couldn't you have your angel bleed for this?"

"Because," Dean told him, "Cas and Chuck haven't come back yet. It's just us."

"I miss Cas," I let out a heavy sigh, "Chuck, too. I miss the days when I thought Chuck was stalking me."

"You had God on your side, kid," Uncle Bobby gave me a little nudge.

"And the devil you know and love," Crowley shot me a wink.

"I wouldn't say love," I teased, "But you're alright. In small doses."

"If that didn't hit the nail on the head," Dean agreed.

All of a sudden, a soft whistling came from the basement door. What the hell...? Was that the Smurfs theme? To no surprise, Gabriel came out with a big ass smile on his face, "You guys wouldn't happen to have any orange juice, would you? Baby girl's wanting mimosas."

"You keep your mitts off my orange juice," I glared through him.

"Hello, Gabriel," Crowley growled a bit.

"Hi, Crowley," Gabriel gave him a look, "Why so bitter? I thought we were cool."

"Peachy..."

"What crawled in his ass?" Gabriel wondered, pouring himself a glass of my orange juice. That son of a bitch...

"Nothing," I took Crowley's hand under the table, "No. We still need him."

"Just one good punch," Crowley begged me, "Please?"

"No," I settled him, "Later."

"By the way," Gabriel never knew when to shut up, "I've had Rowena when she was perfectly content, but pissed? Oh, boy...Any of you ever ride a mechanical bull?"

"Dean has," Sam teased, "Haven't you, Dean?"

"I don't remember," Dean defended himself, "Therefore, it never happened."

"Let's just say," Gabriel smirked, with Crowley's grip on me tightening a little more, "I was the matador who decided to wear way too much red for her. So glad I passed up Tijuana for this."

"Ok," I held Crowley down with as much might as I could muster, "Dean, do you have my car keys?"

"Yeah," he slid them across the table, "Capital idea."

"Come on, Crowley," I insisted, "You're with me."

"Where are we going?" he gave me a look.

"I'm out," I showed him my empty pack of cigarettes, "We're going on a supply run. Anybody? While we're out?"

"Just get him out of here," Sam knew Crowley was t-minus ten seconds from blowing. And Gabriel wasn't helping the situation.

"Lena," Dean turned into the worried big brother, "Can you manage driving your car by yourself?"

"Yes," I nodded, "She and I have a long road ahead together. I'll take care of her."

"Be careful."

I spun my keys around on my finger and got Crowley somewhere he couldn't level with one snap of his fingers. Is it just an angel thing? Do none of them have verbal filters? I mean, I don't know if my theory is true, but all signs are pointing yes at this point. Or Gabriel has no idea that Crowley and Rowena have any prior connection. That could be true, too.

"Lena," Crowley broke the silence in my car, "What are we doing?"

"Like I said," I pulled out of the bunker, "I'm out of smokes and we need to do a supply run. Especially if Gabriel's going to suck down all my orange juice."

"And why did I have to come along on this adventure?"

"Because," I pointed out, "If I would've left you in the bunker, it'd turn into a literal hole in the ground. Say you hate Rowena all you want. Deep down, I think there's a part of you that loves her."

"She's an incubator on legs to me," he pouted, "Nothing more, nothing less."

"You can't tell me," I dug deeper, "that if she were to die tomorrow, you'd cry over it."

"Tears of joy, maybe."

"Really?" I smirked, "Then, riddle me this. Why'd you get so defensive over her?"

Nothing. Crowley was the type of guy to have something to say about everything. However, I question his hatred for his mother and he goes silent? I think we may be seeing some personal growth here. This was kind of fun. And Crowley said he was sadistic. Yet, here I am with a big ass grin on my face from making him squirm.

"Like it or not, she's still my mother," he explained, "I don't want to hear about her exploits. And with an archangel, no less."

"Mmhmm..." I hummed.

"What?" Crowley groaned, "Were you expecting some sort of mindblowing truth full of self-discovery? No. I've perfected mental torture tactics. Insulting one's mother is child's play."

"Whatever you say," I let it go, seeing how long he was going to hold on.

"You realize I could bring you to Lucifer right now," he threatened, "And with absolutely no remorse."

"But you won't," I turned into the gas station, "Because Sam and Dean would find you, kill you, and be back to the bunker before sunrise."

"They've been threatening my life for years," Crowley brushed me off, "If they were going to kill me, they would've done it by now."

"Not saving it for a special occasion?"

"No."

"You're coming in with me," I ordered, "A young girl going into a gas station by herself at this hour is asking for trouble."

"What kind of trouble?" Crowley scoffed, "You could probably get yourself out of it."

"I've been approached by guys wanting to take me on a ride before," I told him, "They'd always back off when I had Sam or Dean around. I can only imagine what would happen if I had you with me."

"Alright," he caved.

I got out of the car and pushed the door open. Oh, the noble Gas 'n Sip. The only place to be at nine o'clock on a Thursday night. For all of my simple pleasures. I wandered up and down the aisles, looking for little hand pies. Dean's stash was looking a little low. I'd be lying if I said I didn't have a hand in that. The least I could do was replenish it.

With half a dozen of them in my hand in assorted flavors and a Snickers and blue raspberry slushie for a bitchy King of Hell, I got myself a slushie, too, and headed to the counter, "Can I get a pack of Marlboro lights?"

"Only if I can get an ID," the guy behind the counter stipulated. Trevor, his badge said. While I fumbled in my wallet for one of my aliases, Trevor glanced over my shoulder at the salty demon behind me, "Is this your dad?"

"What if I am?" Crowley shot him a piercing glare.

"Easy, dude," Trevor backed off, taking a pack of cigarettes from the overhead bin, "It's just a question."

"Hey," I settled him, keeping my voice down, "Relax."

"Fine," Crowley wouldn't keep his eyes off the guy.

"Sorry about that," I excused him, "Daddy's a little on edge lately. After what happened with stepmom number three..."

"Oh," Trevor winced, growing more and more uncomfortable, "I'm sorry to hear that."

"So, my brothers dumped him on me," I gave "Daddy" a quick wink, "It's great to have him around, but it's god awful on the love life."

"Here," he grabbed another pack for me, "On the house."

"Thank you," I smiled, "You're too kind."

"Have a nice day," Trevor sent us off, "And don't worry, sir. I'm sure things will work out for you."

"Whatever," Crowley rolled his eyes and the two of us went back outside.

"Would it kill you to be nice once in a while?" I scolded.

"It could," he pointed out, "Being nice to the wrong people could theoretically kill me."

"You're a handful," I let out a heavy, exasperated sigh, "Did you know that?"

"But I'm a delight," Crowley shoved his slushie straw back in his mouth and he and I went back to my car where a few guys were standing around it, gawking. Can't really blame them. She's beautiful. Dean did a hell of a job restoring her while Sam and I were in Hartford.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" I shoved my hand in my pocket, making sure it was on my knife.

"Is this yours, man?" one of them asked, completely ignoring me.

"Me?" Crowley wondered.

"Yeah, you."

"No," he shook his head, pointing to me, "It's hers."

"What?" Idiot Number Two gave me a look, "Hers?"

"That's right," I nodded, "That's my baby you're breathing on."

"She's gorgeous," he gushed, "What year?"

"Sixty-five," I told him, "I'd love to stay and chat, but my dad and I have things to do."

"That's right," Crowley glared at them, "Come along, sweetheart. Let's go home."

"Ok...?" That look was different than the one he gave the cashier. More threatening than irritated. The two of us got into the car and drove off, "What the hell was that all about?"

"Those were demons, Lena," Crowley explained, "I don't think they've ever had the pleasure of meeting me, but I'm sure they sniffed you out. We need to get back to the bunker as soon as humanly possible. How fast can this car go?"

"I don't know," I shrugged, "I've never topped her out before."

"Let's find out, shall we?"

I stepped on the gas and headed back to the bunker. Demons. Why does it always have to be demons? Why can't it be a basket of puppies? Or Fredrico come to life? Or literally anything else! Hell, I could stand to clear out a vamp nest right now. Demons. Freakin' demons. I'm starting to feel the same about demons like Dean feels about witches.

I pulled back into the bunker's garage, hitting my head on the steering wheel, "That was more exhausting than I previously surmised."

"Look on the bright side," Crowley attempted to cheer me up, "You're home and safe again."

"Thanks, Crowley," I mumbled, "You're a beacon of hope in these dark times."

"I know that was intended to be sarcasm," he shrugged, "But I'm taking it as a win."

"Go ahead and go back inside," I allowed, "I'll be by the front door."

"You sure you'll be ok?" Crowley worried.

"Positive," I assured, "But can I ask you something?"

"What's that?"

"Why do you care so much about me?" I asked.

"I've seen what Lucifer can do," Crowley cringed, "I wouldn't wish that on my enemies. Well…Maybe some of them, but not you. Go have your cigarette and come back."

"Ok," I cracked the garage door and went outside to the front door. I guess I had the same philosophy, in a way. Most demons could get burned alive. Crowley? Crowley was alright. He could be my fake dad any day of the week. It's weird. I've had both God and the King of Hell as my dad. I feel like together, it'd make a damn good sitcom.

"Excuse me," a man came up to the door, looking like he just went hand to hand with a grizzly bear, "Can you help me? Please?"

"Hey," I helped him back onto his feet after tripping over himself, flicking the end of my cigarette in the road, "Are you ok?"

"There's something in the woods…" he panted, "Some big…black…"

That could be a plethora of creatures. Werewolves, most likely. I looked up at the moon and sure enough, it was full, "Did it get to you?"

"No," the guy smiled sheepishly, "She knows better. She wouldn't do that to me."

"What?" I gave him a look, "Why?"

"Because," a pair of black shadows emerged behind this guy…Hold on. I've seen something like that before. Cas showed me his wings once. They came out the same way, "She only attacks on my command. You know how the old saying goes. If you want something done right, do it yourself. Although, that little spell I slipped into Gabriel's thoughts that he put in Rowena's hands helped, too. If it wasn't for that, I wouldn't have been able to pop up here to say hi. I'm so glad I finally found you, Lena. Shall we?"

Before I even had the chance to protest, my vision went black.

 **A/N: And the plot thickens! MWAHAHAHAHAHAH…Ok, I'm done. First of all, I want to point out angry and flustered Crowley. I think he's adorable. And I really do believe wholeheartedly that he does have a little bit of love for Rowena. It's just hella suppressed. I also want to point out that Gabriel would whistle the Smurfs theme after getting laid. That wouldn't surprise me in the least bit. Now, tomorrow…Tomorrow, we're going to have some thrills going on. Two more chapters, guys. Two more and this story is no more. Still not sure if I'm going to go on and do a sequel. Feel free to sound off. You know where my review section is. See you next chapter! xx**


	28. Daddy's Little Girl

**A/N: First off, I'm so, so, so sorry about this being up so late. I was working on the Compound with my dad earlier and lost track of time. Second of all, welcome to day four. Second to the last chapter. Are you sure you're ready for that kind of excitement?**

Damn...My head is killing me. I've never even had a hangover this bad before. But I knew this was no mere hangover. Maybe if I don't open my eyes, I can keep myself in this beautiful state of blissful ignorance for a little while longer. Keep my eyes shut and none of it is happening. Everything is fine and dandy.

But I knew better. I'd have to open them sometime. Things weren't ok. I already knew that much. Alright, Lena. Settle down. Let's retrace your steps. Last thing I remember was having a cigarette outside the bunker. Then, that guy that got ripped up by that werewolf...Do you see what happens when you're nice, Lena? This. This happens. You end up, yet again, held hostage by the other side.

Alright. I know you don't want to, but right now, it's a necessary evil. Slowly, but surely, I cracked my eyes open. Huh. Not at all what I was expecting. When I woke up, I was laying on a bed...A comfortable bed. This was better than my bedroom in the bunker. Everything about this room was a step up from the bunker. By leaps and bounds. I don't know where I was, but a girl could get used to this.

Everything was decorated in brilliant shades of red and the darkest black I've ever seen. And the most dazzling gold. This was nice. Like a high-end brothel, all rich and lacy. I'm sure if I looked in the closet, I'd find some nice quality corsets and some fishnets. However, just one question burned in the back of my mind. Where in the hell was I?

I did a quick check around the room for any sort of answers. Even the slightest clue would be nice. Nothing but fine linens and luxury everywhere I looked. Even I was covered in fine linen. I caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror. Damn...I looked good...I did a few poses, getting a better look at this queen in the mirror. Son of a bitch, I look good in red...

"Gorgeous, aren't you?" a warm voice broke the silence. The guy from outside the bunker put his hands on my shoulders, "I always knew you would be. Ever since you were a baby."

"Who are you?" I backed away from him.

"No, no..." he settled me, taking me into his arms, "You don't need to be afraid of me..."

"Then, tell me who you are," I shook him off, "And how you can control a werewolf."

"What werewolf?"

"The one that attacked you."

"You think that was a werewolf? he chuckled, "No. That was a hellhound. And she's my hellhound. Layla is a good girl. She wouldn't hurt you."

"Why?" I bit my tongue, trying to get my shaking to stop.

"Because I wouldn't do that," the guy promised, "Are you kidding? I want you safe, Lena. Safe and well taken care of. That's why I have this for you."

"That's one question down," I kept inching away from him, "Now, tell me who you are."

"You don't know?" he gasped, "I'm hurt."

I already had a theory, but I wanted to hear it out of his mouth, "You're him, aren't you?"

"Him who?" He wanted to hear me say it just as much as I wanted him to. This dick was testing me. Maybe if I comply a little bit, he'll be a sweetheart and let me go.

I moved away from the mirror and went back to my bed, "Lucifer..."

"Guilty," he smiled, "The one, the only. Often imitated, never duplicated. Can I ask you something?"

"Only if you'll let me out of here."

"There it is," Lucifer chimed, "There's that good old-fashioned Winchester gumption. But you're not really a Winchester, sweetheart. You've just been around them for too long."

"Yes, I am," I jumped on the defensive.

"No," he shook his head, "But I'm sorry. I'm not letting you out."

"Why not?"

"After all the trouble I've gone through to get you here?" Lucifer sat next to me, "No way. I wouldn't want that work to go to waste. There were the favors I had to do to get that spell and then getting it to Gabriel was no easy feat. I'm sure he harbored a little bit of a grudge toward me after what happened with us last time we saw each other. And then! You have the audacity to use the blood of God for this spell? I like it!"

"What do you want me for, Lucifer?" I got down to the point.

"I want you," he explained, "Simple as that."

"Why?"

"Because," he shrugged, "I like you. I have ever since you were fresh out of the womb. You see, the day you were born, you were earmarked for Hell."

"I was?" I gave him a look, "I have a hard time believing that."

I knew I've done some things in my past that I shouldn't necessarily be proud of. The drinking, the drugs, the lack of shame when it comes to taking my clothes off. But stamped for Hell since day one? There's no way. I knew my parents made a deal, but I didn't think they would've traded me for that.

"For that question I wanted to ask you," Lucifer went on, "Do you remember when you were younger and the nuns that ran the orphanage you were hanging out at told you that there was an angel watching over you?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "But I kind of took that with a grain of salt. Even when I was younger."

"They weren't wrong," he assured, "There was, in fact, an angel watching over you. And going by the smell of you, you've been hanging around Castiel lately, haven't you?"

"Ye..."

"Of course you have," Lucifer cut me off, "If you've been palling around with Sam and Dean, Cas comes along with that. He's practically their pet. It wouldn't surprise me if Dean had a leash for him."

"Dude, gross," I cringed, "Blood relation or not, they're still my brothers. I don't want to hear about that. What Dean and Cas do in their free time is their business."

"Alright," he let it go, "But Cas wasn't the angel watching over you. Hell, Dad wasn't even keeping an eye on you. But there was an angel watching...An archangel even! That makes you pretty special. Archangels in Heaven are usually assigned to keep watch over prophets."

"Look," I stopped him, "I'm no prophet. I don't have any great prolific thoughts about what it all means. I'm just human."

"You're not just human," Lucifer popped me in the shoulder, "You're my human."

"No, no, no," I shot him down, "I'm nobody's human. I'm barely my own human."

"Do you really want to know what you're doing here?" he asked.

"Yes!"

"The orphanage fire," Lucifer explained, "You wanted to get adopted, did you not?"

And so, the walls started tumbling down. I always knew that Lucifer would be slippery, but I didn't realize he'd be this bad, "More than anything...But eventually, I did."

"No, you didn't," he put an arm around me, "The orphanage fire was my own way of saying you're going to come home very soon. And to get used to the fire. It's not all that bad. Rather beautiful if you ask me."

"This isn't home to me," I put my foot down, "Home is a couple of good men and a hole in the ground."

"I could multiply myself," Lucifer suggested, "And technically, this is a hole in the ground..."

"Where is here?" I wondered, "Because when I picture Hell, this isn't at all what I think of."

"Because I don't want Hell to be unpleasant for you, Lena!" he whined, "I want our time together to be full of fun and adventure!"

"I don't know if you're wanting me as a lover or a partner in crime," I jumped away from him, "But I'm not having it. Angels, arch or otherwise, have a thing about consent, right? Well, I'm saying no."

"That's only if I were to take you as a vessel," Lucifer rolled his eyes, "You'd think that a year with Sam and Dean would've taught you some little things. I don't want you as a vessel. I want you to carry the antichrist."

"Excuse me?" my stomach dropped to the floor. Relax, Lena. He might be testing you. Think for a sec, "I thought you could only get the antichrist if a human and a demon make a baby."

"You have been listening," he applauded, "Atta girl…And I was joking. I don't think you could survive something like that anyway. That's not what I wanted you for."

"Then..." I bit my lip, "Why did you want me?"

"Because," Lucifer pulled me back into his embrace, "I wanted to be the one to adopt you, Lena. I thought that since the moment I set eyes on you. There was something pulling at the heartstrings when you were born. When I found out your parents made a deal to get you in the first place, it made me all giddy. But because of Dad, the deal got dropped and their souls ended up in Heaven anyway."

That was a good thing. I knew they weren't truly suffering for me to keep breathing. If I ever get topside again, I really needed to send Chuck a fruit basket. He's gotten me out of a lot of jams before. The housefire. The orphanage fire. I just hope that he can do it again. With my brothers in tow. Wait...Did Lucifer say what I think he said?

"You wanted to adopt me?" I gave him a look, "The object of your desire was for me to be...Your daughter?"

"Yeah," he blushed a bit, "I've been around a lot of years, Lena, but I need someone that'll be able to take my throne if something happens to me. Because I wouldn't put it past Sam and Dean to try to kill me or Cas to try and kill me or that third-rate salesman Crowley to kill me. Especially after I kicked him out of my seat. But see...That's the thing about Crowley. I'm sure he'll be grabbing his ankles for me, now that I'm back at full power."

Lucifer wasn't in love with me...He loved me. Period. For whatever reason, he had a strong, paternal instinct when it came to me. Even stranger yet, he wanted me to take over Hell one day if he were to ever get dropped. In a perfect world, Sam and Dean would be the ones to ice him, but for now, we needed to see how things were going to play out. I had to admit ruling over Hell sounded like it could be fun, but I still knew better.

"So," I thought it over, "You want me to rule Hell with you?"

"Yeah," Lucifer chimed, "I think it'd be fun. Just the two of us."

"I don't know," I cringed, "It's Hell. Don't get me wrong. I'm down for some torture, but I'm sure it loses its luster after a while."

"That's my girl," he hugged me tight, "I have the feeling this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship."

I needed to get back to that middle ground between Heaven and Hell. There's no way I was going to have any sort of relationship with Lucifer. I'm not his girl. I'm not his daughter. I have things to do elsewhere. Nowhere in my future plans does it say hanging out in Hell, torturing souls for the rest of eternity. But if Lucifer had such a blinding love for me already, I might as well use some of it to my advantage.

"On one condition..."

"What is it, princess?" Lucifer asked, "Anything you want."

"Crowley," I stipulated, a mischievous glint in my eye, "I want him to be my whipping post. And I want him now."

"I can do that," he kissed my forehead, "Stay here, ok?"

"Ok," I smiled a little for him, really laying it on thick, "And Lucifer...?"

"Yes, my dear, sweet child?"

"Do you think..." I glanced down at my feet, "Maybe I could have a little bit of power? I don't want to be an ordinary little human."

"Of course you can," Lucifer cradled my face in his hands, "But please. Don't think of me as Lucifer anymore. You can call me Daddy, too."

"Ok, Daddy," I hugged him, being his idea of the loving daughter, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Lena," he left me alone and ordered some random demon to bring him Crowley. Little did he know, bringing me Crowley is my best shot at getting out of here. Having a badass demon in my corner right now probably wouldn't be a half bad idea. Not to mention, he'd be able to mellow me out. Hell was…Well, it's Hell. No matter how nice Lucifer tries to make it for me, it's not going to be happy sunshine and rainbows.

"Hi there…" a demon came into my room. And a damn fine looking specimen, if I do say so myself. No, Lena. Demons are bad…ish. Most of them. Sometimes they end up being friends, but that's beside the point. This one was perfect. Like he was made in a laboratory just for me.

"Hi," I blushed, "Who are you?"

"You don't recognize me?" he pouted, "I'm hurt, Lena. I mean, I was in a different vessel. It's nice to get out and stretch once in a while. How is that kid doing? Do you know?"

"Wait a sec," I thought it over. There's no way this was… "Xander?"

"You remember me!" he threw his arms around me, "Listen, sorry about what I did upstairs. In my defense, you did exorcise me."

"This is your true form?" I gasped, fighting every urge I had to drill this guy in the mouth, "Honestly, you would've gotten farther with me if you would've stayed like this."

"Yeah," Xander chuckled a bit, "I'm totally an incubus demon. My sister's the one that got you dressed and might I say what a hell of a job she did. She said she could smell me on you, so I thought I'd come see what Lucifer hired me for in the first place."

"Here I am," I did everything I could not to touch him, but damn, he was making it hard. In more ways than one. Come on, Lena. Think with your head, not your hormones, "What are you doing here?"

"Keeping an eye on you like the boss said to," Xander cradled my face in his palm, "You would make a really good succubus, too. Did you know that?"

"I don't plan on seducing someone's soul from them," I shrugged, "Sorry."

"In that case," he moved in closer, his body against mine, "How about I seduce yours from you?"

"Even though Lucifer wants me all for his own?"

"I like a little bit of danger," Xander flirted.

"Xander," Lucifer came back, "Hands off my little girl."

"Yes, sir." So much for the little bit of danger, trying to be a badass routine.

"Out."

"Yes, sir," Xander scurried out of the room. Yeah. He's not charming my panties off anymore.

"Hi, Daddy," I smiled sweetly, jumping through the hoops Lucifer wanted me jumping through, "Did you bring me my present?"

"I did," Lucifer threw Crowley's half alive body on my bedroom floor, "Come on. Make your old man proud. Show me what you can do to him. I did give you a little bit of power. I want to see what you do with it."

"Ok," I was going to feel so bad about this. Somehow, I managed to conjure a plasma like whip from my right hand. Lucifer wasn't kidding. He did give me a little bit of power. Sorry, Crowley. I whipped him across the face with it, getting him back to his knees.

"Beautiful form," Lucifer applauded, "Do it again, but this time, try switching from plasma to fire."

"Ok," I cringed internally.

"Lena, please," Crowley coughed out, "I can't…"

Fwwhippp!

I lit him up like a Christmas tree and Crowley let out another ear piercing scream. This was killing me. Granted, Crowley was a demon. Demons were bad. But this was Crowley. Not even a little while ago, he was being mistaken as my dad and he didn't think twice about accepting the title. And he's saved my life, yet here I was, beating him like he stole from me. I was going to have to ask him for help, but all I did was bring him misery.

"Try compelling him, Lena," Lucifer coached, "Get him to say something."

I stared into his eyes, waiting for the words to come out of his mouth. Very hoarsely, Crowley finally spoke, "Danke, Herrin…"

"German?" Lucifer assumed.

"Yeah," I nodded, "Thank you, Mistress."

"A little tongue-in-cheek for me," he shrugged, "But I like it! Now, I'm going to let you play with your new toy. If you need anything, let me know, ok? By the way, the best part about your power, princess?"

"What of it?" I wondered.

"You can heal him and start all over."

"Sounds like a good way to kill my afternoon," I gave him a dirty grin, "I'll have to try that."

"Have fun, kids," Lucifer shut my door on his way out.

Immediately, I ran to Crowley's side and healed his injuries the same way I've seen Cas heal mine, "Bloody hell, you psycho bitch!"

"Crowley, relax," I settled him, "It's all…"

"Relax?" he scrambled away from me, "You're conjuring whips out of thin air and healing me just to do it again! How long have you been down here that Lucifer has you that corrupted already?"

Whipp!

My open palm ran across his face, "Shut up and let me talk."

"That's convincing," Crowley blinked the stars out of his eyes, "What's going on now?"

"I'm fine," I assured, "This is all just an act. Lucifer wanted a daughter, so he set his sights on me. I've been giving him what he wants. And I'm really sorry about beating you. At least I healed you. Now, we need a plan to bust me out of here."

"You have Sam, Dean, and Cas worried sick about you," he reported, "Bobby's no better. When I was jumped by whatever punk ass demon chose the wrong side, they were working on a way to find you. At least we have that question answered."

"Do you think you can pop out of here?" I asked.

"Not the both of us," Crowley winced, "Sorry, darling."

"Not what I was asking," I reiterated, "Can you get out of here?"

"If you take the shock collar off me," he exposed his neck with a thick, black band around it. I popped the buckle on it, "Thank you. Anything you want me to tell them?"

"That I'm alive," I told him, "And to hurry their asses up on that rescue."

"Will do," Crowley gave me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Before you go, though," I stopped him, "You will have to come back here. If Lucifer comes back and you're not here, he'll be suspicious."

"And," he bit his tongue, "I'm sure I'll have to go through more of that, won't I?"

"Temporarily."

"Joy." And just like that, Crowley blipped out of my room. I can get through this. If I could get through Dean's hormones during Vegas week and the boys' general bickering and being kidnapped and held hostage, I could get through anything. Besides, I know the cavalry is on its way. I got more than just God on my side.

 **A/N: So, yes. We've made it to literal Hell. And Lucifer wanted Lena as his own little girl to love and nurture and horribly corrupt. I don't know why, but I find them rather adorable together. Now, tomorrow's the last chapter. However shall I wrap this? I don't know. But you'll find out tomorrow. See you next chapter! xx**


	29. Let's Go Home

**A/N: Here we are, kids. All the marbles. Right here and now. Last chapter. We'll be closing the book here in a minute, but I'm going to let you read this. And I'm going to be saving the emotion until the end. Now, shut up, Lumi. You have work to do.**

I missed my boys. I missed my brothers. The little crinkle Dean gets in his forehead when he's angry. The look on Sam's face full of determination and concentration when we get into a research hole. They're coming for me. I know it. I feel it in the pit of my heart that my brothers were coming for me. And there'd be an entire storm to follow them.

Although, I must admit Lucifer was making a rather compelling argument for Hell. My room kept me comfortable. The Wi-Fi signal held strong. My cigarettes never ran out. The water fountain dispensed red wine. I had a masseuse! She found spots in my back that I didn't even know I had. Digging up graves for the past year took a toll on me more than I thought.

In my usual session with my masseuse, I nodded off. Might as well. My bones felt like jelly. I wasn't moving. Yeah. A little bit of sleep couldn't hurt. As Mira dug into my muscles, I tried to redirect my thoughts. I'm just trying to make the best of a bad situation here. A really...really bad situation...that I needed to get out of...eventually. As soon as this stops feeling incredible.

"Lena," Lucifer broke up my beautiful state of pure bliss, "Wake up, princess."

"Did you get my burrito?" I groaned into the face cradle, "With hot sauce in it, not on the side?"

"Not yet," he sent Mira away. That son of a bitch, "Right now, we have work to do."

"Like what?"

"Like protecting this house," Lucifer told me, "And Daddy's going to need your help."

"Really?" I got excited, "What are we doing, Daddy?"

"My little girl has gotten so strong," he put his hand to my cheek, "And I'm so proud of you. We're going to take out our number one enemy."

"Who's that?"

"God, Lena," Lucifer cradled me against his chest, "God. He's the reason why I was cast out of Heaven in the first place. I just loved God too much. Is there really such a thing?"

"How could there be?" I gasped, "But Daddy, if our number one enemy is God, does that mean you don't love him anymore?"

"There is no love loss," he assured, pushing my hair out of my face, "He abandoned his children. And that's something I can promise you I will never ever do. Not to you."

I curled into him a little more, "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you, too, sweetheart," Lucifer kissed the top of my head. Saying that physically pained me, "Are you ready to see what your powers can really do?"

"Hell yeah!" I sang, "Let's do it!"

"That's my girl," he threw his arm around my waist, but not without a look around my room, "Hold on. We're short one. Where's Crowley?"

"I sent him away," I grumbled, "He was starting to drive me nuts. So needy..."

"I'm sorry," Lucifer hugged me, "Do you want a new demon? I'll get you a new demon."

"No," I let it go, "There's something weirdly satisfying about beating the crap out of him. He makes noises the other demons wouldn't. Music to my ears."

"Let's go see Daddy dearest, shall we?" he took my hand, "Who knows? Maybe after this is all over and we've successfully taken over Heaven, you could rule up there while I rule down here."

"Sounds like a plan," I smiled, "That way, I can keep an eye on my parents, too."

"Lena," Lucifer's grip tightened, "You have me, princess. You don't need them. They're not your parents anymore. I am. I'm all you need. I can give you more than they ever could. I've given you more than they ever did. They left you."

"They died," I pointed out, a little nervous, "They didn't..."

"They could've escaped the fire!" he snapped, "God could've saved them, but no. Instead, he saves you! He took you away from me! Not once, but twice!"

"Ok," I shook, "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere..."

Lucifer noticed my fear and instantly, he began to relax, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to get all worked up like that. Now, I've gone and scared you. Come on. I think I know something that'll make you feel better."

His grip eased up and the two of us zapped out of Hell. It felt good to be back on Earth again, breathing in fresh air. It was almost too cold up here despite the fact it felt like the middle of summer. In my defense, though, I was also living in Hell. Lucifer and I started to walk the streets of a little town I almost didn't recognize anymore. It had been so long since I was here. On that same note, how long was I in Hell?

"Do you know where we are?" Lucifer asked.

"No," I took a look around, knowing exactly where we were. If we turned the corner just up here, we'd be at the best little watering hole South Dakota had to offer, "Where are we?"

"I thought taking you back to your hometown would've been a good idea," he brought me into the bar, "You really shouldn't be drinking, but this was your favorite bar, right?"

"Yeah," I sat on one of the stools, "I practically grew up in here. I remember my first time in this place."

"So do I," Lucifer told my story, "You were ten and wanted to hear the band play. You got awfully close with them after that, didn't you?"

"We became a makeshift family after that," I gushed, "I miss them."

"Look on the bright side, though," he ordered for us, "Now, you have me. You don't need them anymore."

I see where this was going. Because Lucifer got jumpy when I talked about my actual parents, too. Then, I start talking about my friends that became my family. Something tells me if I even mention the fact that I met the boys in here, Lucifer would have my head on a spike. He wants to be the only one in my life. My only constant.

In a way, he has been. He knows all about me. My hometown, my bar, my past. Lucifer may know all about me, but he doesn't know me. He has no clue how my brain ticks. Although, I have a feeling that he wouldn't hesitate to tear me apart just to find that out. However, thanks to a little help from the devil I know and love, I'm sure he's getting my mental telepathy. Or the boys were smart and tracked my phone like I told them to.

"You're right," I completely succumbed to him, wrapping myself around Lucifer's arm, "Just you and me, right, Daddy? You rule Hell, I'll rule Heaven. We'll have it all figured out. Because we're all we need. Along with Heaven and Hell, of course."

"That's right," Lucifer laced his fingers between mine, "Us against the world, baby. Us against the world."

All of a sudden, his face turned to stone. Naturally, I got a tad worried, "What is it?"

"I smell angels," he cringed, "No doubt they're here for me. Not every day someone pops the locks on the cage."

"Should we go?" I asked.

"Nah," Lucifer kicked his feet up on the empty barstool next to him, "They don't have the manpower to get me back in the box. Last I checked, Michael's drooling on himself, Gabriel's getting the ol' razzle dazzle from Rowena, and Dad's nowhere to be found. Nothing's tearing us apart, Lena. Pinky promise."

Crrrack...

"That doesn't sound good," I winced, staring up at the ceiling.

"It's just the building settling," he put me at ease, "Now, they've made my little girl paranoid. Lena, you could probably hold an angel down, right? If need be?"

"If I tried hard enough," I figured.

"Good," Lucifer chirped, "Because this angel smells like cheeseburgers and daddy issues. That means Sam and Dean are in town. Unless Castiel went rogue, which wouldn't surprise me that much. But being so far from his favorite pair of humans for so long would be almost unheard of. Lena..."

"Yes, Daddy?" I cocked my head, "What is it?"

"Would you be alright holding Cas down while I pulled every single feather out of his wings one by one?"

"I don't know," I bit my lip, "That might me a little more than my stomach can handle."

"Trust me," Lucifer promised, "Once you get past the first hundred or so, you'll be fine. Besides, I've seen you torture demons in Hell worse than that. I've watched you put out a cigarette on demon nips more than once. You've carved your initials in Crowley's lower back like a tramp stamp. This won't be any different."

"Ok." Sorry, Cas.

"Good," he grinned darkly, "Shall we? I'm sure if Sam and Dean get their eyes on you and the monster you've become, it'll break them."

I knew better. I was no monster. I wasn't torturing the demons out of joy or any sense of amusement. It was either that or have Lucifer tear me to shreds. I'm sure Sam and Dean would understand. Besides, they were demons. It's not like we haven't killed them before. And it's screwing with demons. How can I pass that up?

I put on a little smile, taking Lucifer's hand, "Let's go play, Daddy."

He had no idea what I was doing. Beautiful. The boys have taught me well. I can play the victim all he wanted. That's no problem. When he realizes I've been leading him on, I'm sure he'll destroy me with the snap of his fingers, but it'll be too late for him to do anything. At least I hope so. I've kind of grown to love this whole humanity thing. Not really in the mood for Armageddon.

Lucifer and I stepped outside the bar and oddly enough, no one was outside. I've never seen Hartford look like such a ghost town. The closest it's ever gotten was this one time at three in the morning when Brendon busted me out of the orphanage for a trip to the diner and a minute to ourselves. Even then, there were a couple cars still on the road and a few people stumbling out of the bars on their way home. But this was downright eerie.

"You hear that?" Lucifer nudged me as a familiar engine rumble echoed through town, "Sounds like trouble."

"You're not scared?" I worried.

"Of the Winchesters?" he chuckled, "Lena, I'm me. I'm probably the most powerful archangel in all of creation. Not to mention, you, my dear child, are my favorite ace in the hole. Sure, they got a divine pet, too. And maybe they have God. But I have you. They're not going to want to hurt you. You're too special to them. But they can't have you."

"I don't want them to have me anyway," I brushed them off, "I have you!"

"That's my girl," Lucifer gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, "Ready to kick ass and take names, princess?"

"I sure am." I was more than ready.

The sound of shutting car doors called out, just as ready as I was. Sure enough, Sam, Dean, Cas, and Uncle Bobby came out, fully armed. I wouldn't have expected anything less. Come on, boys. I have nothing but faith in you. You've taken this son of a bitch down once. I know in my heart you can do it again.

"Gentlemen!" Lucifer sang out, "I missed you! Welcome to Hartford! Enjoy your stay."

"You know why we're here," Dean snarled, "Give us the girl and we'll leave."

"Just like that?" Lucifer thought it over, "No reprocussions? That's not like you, guys...I'm a little disappointed."

"Lena," Sam asked, "You ok?"

"Oh, I'm ok," I smirked, conjuring that pretty whip Lucifer was so kind to gift me, "I'm so ok."

"Lucifer," Cas glared through him, "What have you done?"

"Show them, princess," Lucifer pushed me forward, "Make Daddy proud."

"Daddy?" Dean gave me a look, "Lena, no. You're better than this."

"Am I?" I shot him a wink, "Am I really? All he wanted was his little girl. And now, he's got her. And she's got him. Don't get me wrong. For the time being, you guys were great. I've grown, though. I've moved on to bigger and better game."

"Le..." Dean took one step toward me and Lucifer sent him flying. Something tell me he didn't pick up what I was trying to tell him.

"You know how fathers can be," he shrugged, "They're protective of their baby. Especially when little boys try to get their hands on them."

"That's not your baby," Uncle Bobby jumped on the defensive.

"Since when are you alive?" Lucifer wondered, "Haven't I already killed you once before?"

What?

I watched the angel blade slide out of Cas' coat sleeve, "Lucifer, let her go."

"She's with me willingly," he assured, "She chose to stay with me. I offered to let her go, but she said no."

"Lena," Sam's heart shattered in his eyes, "Why?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I scoffed, "I love him and this incredible power he's given me."

"You're full of angel grace, Lena," Cas pointed out, "No human can handle that kind of thing. That's more energy than your body can withstand."

"Daddy," I looked up at Lucifer, "I'll be ok, right?"

"He's lying to you, baby," Lucifer cradled me, "You'll be fine."

"Once he uses you to destroy humanity," Cas went on, "He'll drop you like you're nothing."

"You mean, like this?" Lucifer threw Cas the same way he threw Dean. As he attempted to go over to his brother, Sam and Uncle Bobby tried to stop him, but to no avail. Lucifer held one foot on Cas' chest, "Lena, be a dear, would you?"

"Ok." This must be the part Lucifer was talking about.

"Show me those pretty wings of yours, Castiel," he smirked, pressing down harder on Cas' ribs. A pair of dark shadows appeared behind him, "Lena, hold him down."

"Lena, no," Cas begged, "Don't do this."

"I know you're not going to like this, sweetheart," Lucifer settled me, "But you may want to look away. For the sake of your stomach."

"Ok," I looked dead into Cas' eyes, hoping he could see into my thoughts. I don't mean to harm you, Castiel. I love you. Why would I? This is all for show. On the count of three, I'm going to let up on the pressure my foot is putting on your chest.

"Now," Lucifer grabbed a hold of one of the feathers on his brother's wing, "Where's the old man at?"

"I don't know," Cas winced, "I haven't heard from him."

"You're lying to me, Castiel," Lucifer pulled the first one. That scream…That scream will haunt me for the rest of my life. It was enough to shatter the windows on all the storefronts in town, "Now, where is he?"

"Daddy," I put my hand to his shoulder, easing my weight off my foot, "I'm sure we can find him. We don't need him. Remember? All we need is each other."

"But he knows," Lucifer snarled.

"And it's going to stay that way."

"Excuse me?"

I took my plasma whip and threw it at Lucifer, catching him entirely off guard and knocking him on his ass, "Leave my angel alone."

"Your angel?" he tried to regain his composure, but I wasn't letting him, "Very cute, Lena. Let Daddy up now."

"No, no," I hushed him, nodding toward Uncle Bobby, still recovering from the initial blast, "That man over there has been more of a father to me than anyone to ever exist. Not you."

"You forget who I am, child?" Lucifer's eyes glowed blue, ready to end me in an instant. But instead of my death, the light in his eyes glowed even brighter. Only for it to go out in a flash. I guess an angel blade kills an angel. Archangel or otherwise.

"You forget who I am," I growled in his face, "I'm not your little girl. I never was."

"Lena," Cas threw his brother aside and raced to me, "Are you alright?"

"Cas…" I fell into his arms, "Why can't I feel anything?"

"Because of the angel grace in you," he put his hand to my cheek, "You won't be stable for much longer."

"What do we do?" I shook.

"We'll get you back to the bunker," Cas told me, "And we'll draw it out. It's not going to be pleasant. I wish I could tell you it'd be painless, but…"

"I want it out," I demanded, "I want it out now."

"We have to get everyone else," he pointed out, "We have Lucifer off the table. Can you still walk?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "I got all the strength in the world."

"Could you help me get them to the car?"

"Yeah."

Cas and I left Lucifer's body on the ground and brought Sam, Dean, and Uncle Bobby to the back seat of the Impala and headed back to the bunker. That six-hour trip back to the bunker. The blood in my veins burned so hot. Must be from the angel grace. I couldn't even sit still. Everyone else was sleeping soundly (except for Cas, but he was driving), but the heat. The heat was getting to be unbearable.

"Cas," I whined, "Is there anything you can do?"

"I'm sorry, Lena," he winced, "I wish there was. But until we get back to the bunker, you'll have to stay like this."

"It's so hot…" I felt a tear trickle down my cheek, "It burns so bad…"

"Here," Cas thought, "If I put you to sleep, your body won't think about the burn from the grace."

"Please," my voice broke, "Put me to sleep."

"Alright," his fingers pressed up against my forehead, successfully knocking me out. This still sucked. Every minute, I could feel it getting worse and worse. More and more intense. I needed something to soothe this someway, anyway. It's times like these where I wish I had Mira. Unfortunately, she was serving eternity in Hell, so…Once we got back to the bunker, I woke up in the lab, strapped to a table. Not good.

"What the hell?" I freaked, trying to get out of the restraints.

"Hey, Lena," Dean was right by my side, holding my hand, "It's alright. We're home. We're ok."

"What's going on?" I couldn't stop shaking and my body was on fire.

"You're about to have angel grace extracted from your veins," Cas had a syringe in his hand…Thaaat's a big needle…That's a really big needle.

"Here," Dean offered me his belt, "You'll want something to bite down on."

"Ok," I didn't think twice. Cas jabbed the needle in my throat and started pulling some weird blue aura out of me. I thought I'd be able to handle it, but I ended up passing out from the pain.

After I woke up again, I was back in my bed and the burn in my body was all gone. Good. Because I can wake up from this and pretend like it was all a bad dream. I walked out of my room and down the hall. Sam slept in his bed and Dean in his. Uncle Bobby even managed to catch some sleep in one of the chairs in the main room. Good. I'd never be able to repay these boys for all they've done for me. But at the end of the day, they didn't need to do that. They've nearly died for me time and time again.

And they don't deserve that kind of burden. Sam and Dean have enough on their plate. They don't need to worry about me. I hoped they knew how much I loved them and that's why I'm doing this in the first place. Thank you, boys. Thank you for the second chance. Thank you for keeping me safe. Thank you for giving me the family I've always wanted. But I'm going to release you from this burden whether you want me to or not. I opened the garage door and pulled the Mustang out, driving off into the sunrise. Thank you, boys. Thank you.

 **A/N: And there we have it, guys. A relatively happily ever after. With Lena going off on her own.**

 **Now, I want to give you guys a thank you, too. For sticking it out with me. I had someone tell me just how much my writing was trash recently. But I think you guys gave me that nice little boost of confidence I needed to see this one to the end. This one's been my most popular fic since I started posting for it. Will there be a sequel? That's still up in the air. But if you're reading this in the future, feel free to ask me anything you need clarification on. Now, I'm going to go to bed. See you later. xx**


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